THE TREMENDOUS TALE OF TRISTAN BELLWETHER
by LooptyLue7
Summary: A young boy from a long line of powerful dark wizards must navigate the wizarding world with mediocre magical abilities.
1. Chapter 1-4

**THE TREMENDOUS TALE OF TRISTAN BELlWETHER**

 **The Dragon and the Serpent**

The Dragon is loud. He flaps his wings, and seeks to be seen and feared. His cries are like fire, the embers leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. This is not true for the Serpent. For unlike the Dragon, he is cunning and persuasive. He feeds on rats and vermin so that towns may thrive. All the while he waits to strike at the feet of his enemy with poisonous fangs. You see the Dragon nearly went extinct because he perceived he had no equal. But the Serpent will always thrive because he knows his adversary, so he shrouds his true ways in secrecy.

Thomas M. Riddle, 1975

 **PROLOGUE**

I'm assuming if you're reading this, then you've heard the story of Harry Potter. There are few who haven't. While it is interesting, I must confess, the story is incomplete. To completely understand what took place all those years ago, one must first take into consideration the tremendous tale of Tristan Bellwether.

This is as important of a story that you will ever hear. I will try my best to be a reliable narrator. You see, this is the story of magic and wonder; heartbreak and sadness. I confess that I'm tempted to make it more jovial for the reader. While you may know the harrowing tale of "the chosen one" à la Harry Potter, those fantastic tales hardly tell the whole story. In truth, the wizards in his story fought for answers to meaningless questions regarding purity of blood, while a greater evil dwelled within the most forgotten parts of our world. Though not as glamorous, the details of the following story are equally as important so that one day you might remember this tale as a warning of what could've been if not for Tristan Bellwether.

 **CHAPTER ONE: MALICE AT MALFOY MANOR**

It was a warm summer's morning when Mrs. Bellwether found herself restlessly staring at her bedroom clock. She would have been pacing if she could, but early that week a vexing woman had left her in bad shape with a particularly nasty cough. She had been hit with a surprisingly powerful hex before managing to strip her assailant of her wand. You see, Mrs. Bellwether like her, mother before her, was a witch. She was a short Ghanaian woman with stunning long brown hair and a beautiful smile.

She had had a lot of wizards eying for her affections by the time she had graduated from Bomanto School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she had fallen for a particular English gentleman visiting Accra on holiday. Mr. Bellwether was a tall, dark skin man, who always wore a dragonhide cloak. He was lean but muscular, and very handsome. He wore his hair low on the sides, and on top of his head he had medium length dreadlocks that he wore tied into a ponytail. He had a charm about him that made many witches swoon. She had first noticed him because of his bright and inquisitive personality. He'd ask the locals loads of question about customs, how to find shops, and once he even stopped Mrs. Bellwether, who was at the time Agatha Bonsu, and asked where he might find a festival because he felt rather like dancing and if she would accompany him because he was a bit too timid to go on his own. She looked into his deep gray eyes and smiled.

That had been all it took, and before long they were picking out flowers, a wedding dress, and where they would live. She decided that she would move to London and they would move into the old Bellwether manor. Martin hated the place since it reminded him of his deceased parents but nonetheless, he agreed to make the manor his home as long as she was there to share it with him. They had both gotten jobs with the Ministry of Magic (the wizarding governing body in England) and before long Mrs. Bellwether was surprising Martin in his office with the news that she was pregnant with their first child.

That was nearly nine months ago and now here she lay alone in their bed waiting for her husband to return. Somehow, she knew that the baby was coming soon, and her husband Mr. Bellwether had been out all night again helping the Ministry with whatever it was they had him doing, she wasn't sure. She looked at her wristwatch uncomfortably while fidgeting with the band. Sweat poured down her forehead.

She was unaware that at that very moment, Mr. Bellwether was doing everything in his power to get back to his wife. He had been given a very special assignment by the ministry of magic but despite his every effort, he found it particularly difficult to abandon this project no matter how hard he tried. He knew his wife needed him, but as he approached the long avenue he found that it was quite impossible to steal himself away from his present company. He stopped and turned about face on the old cobble stone pathway looking directly into the eyes of a man he very much hated; Lucius Malfoy.

The noon sun beat down upon the two men with sweltering precision. Lucius had just stepped out of his house to greet Martin, and already he begun to sweat profusely. Martin, however, stood there comfortably in his long dark leathery cloak, oblivious to the heat. He wore black gloves, black boots, and pants of a loose black fabric.

Lucius approached him fervently with a bright smile spread wide across his face. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and long blonde hair, and it was peculiar to see such an elated expression on his chiseled face. He wore what surely must've been expensive clothing. His cloak was of black silk with shiny green embroidery, his shirt was a soft pillowy white, and his pants were as green as the eye of an emerald.

"It's been a long time old friend." Martin called out.

"Yes, it certainly has."

The men embraced and pulled apart to examine each other.

"Looking good Lucius. You finally started to put on weight." Martin stated with a smirk.

"I assure you, it's my lovely wife's cooking." Lucius replied with laugh.

"I thought you were going to get rid of that thing." Martin pointed back at the tall gilded gate on which a dazzling peacock pranced back and forth.

Lucius laughed harder this time. "It's grown on me. But come now, we mustn't dawdle outside. These are dangerous times." Lucius said, all of a sudden stern.

Lucius motioned for Martin to follow him into the house. When the two men crossed the threshold, the door shut behind them and a series of locks clicked into place.

Martin looked around the foyer which housed statues, sculptures, and old paintings of wizards that followed him with their eyes.

Lucius offered Martin a seat in the next room.

"I'm surprised to see you moved into your parents' old place, you used to hate it here! It looks livelier now, though. Your father preferred colours that were a bit too dark and dreary for my liking." Martin jibed.

"This coming from the man who wears nothing but black." Lucius laughed.

"Too true." Martin laughed as well.

"It's been five years without a word from you." Lucius continued seriously. "Did you find the cure you were looking for?"

"I wish it were that simple, Lucius." Martin answered. "I'm with the ministry now and they have me running errands for them that are a waste of my time. Meanwhile, I've had to find many hard to find wizards, and then I've had to find the wizards that trained those hard to find wizards."

"And the Dark Lord knew of your comings and goings?" Lucius asked intently.

Martin scoffed sycophantically, "Who? 'No Nose'?"

At the name "No-Nose" Lucius became startled. He looked over his shoulder to make sure that they were still alone.

"Still calling him that, I see. It's not wise." Lucius warned.

"We all know that his name is jinxed. Besides 'No-Nose' is catchy. Or perhaps 'He Who Has No Sinuses.'" Martin laughed to himself.

Lucius squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. "Surely you're one powerful wizard, but it would be unwise to assume that your power rivals that of the Dark Lord."

At this, Martin looked annoyed. "Do you really think that half-being could beat me? A man- Yes, a man, Lucius…"

Lucius, who was about to interject, sat there tense, quiet.

Martin continued. "…is only as powerful as those who prop him up. Nevertheless, for the time being I am one of those people. He has knowledge that I seek, so it works in my favor that our interests are aligned. Even still, though I take orders, I will never be branded like cattle." He eyed Lucius's left arm.

There was a tense moment between the two before a tall beautiful woman walked into the room. Her long blonde hair draped down her shiny green pajama blouse. As she entered the room, she was surprised to see Martin, who was just as surprised to see her. She struggled to find her words. Her cheeks went scarlet as she made a fruitless attempt to disguise her hatred of him.

"The 'dragon' has landed at Malfoy Manor. What brings you here after all these ye-" She began, but Martin cut her off.

"Cissy, you're pregnant!" He shouted.

Martin looked from Narcissa to Lucius back to Narcissa.

"Narcissa, you must get back to bed. You are supposed to be on bedrest." Lucius insisted.

"Congratulations, you two!" Martin exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. He made to shake Lucius's hand, but just then, an ill feeling came over him.

"What's wrong?" Narcissa asked.

"I can sense powerful magic." Martin replied, tension in his voice.

"Not to worry, we have this house warded with enough enchantments to give anyone of the Order of the Phoenix serious problems. Not to mention, the alarms should give us enough time to-"

Martin reached for his wand just as the windows shattered and bright red, green, yellow, and purple lights streaked through the room.

Martin silently waved his wand as a powerful shield charm appeared on all sides of the trio.

Lucius drew his wand angrily. "Stop! My wife is pregnant, you fools!" He raised the sleeve of his left arm and touched the tip of his wand to the tattoo on his forearm.

There was another loud crash and the trio turned to see the front door blown off its hinges. A flurry of spells flew in their direction but Martin again waved his wand and black flames erupted from the tip, forming a wall of black fire.

Suddenly there were loud bangs all around them as cloaked figures began to appear throughout the room.

"Aurors!" Martin cried out. "Go! Get her out of here!" He pointed to Narcissa who was wandless and had run to shield herself behind a long table."

Lucius made to run towards her but a spell whizzed right past him singeing his robes. He shot a hex at the wizard who attacked him but it was deflected and countered.

Lucius dived out of the way, as the spell hit one of the legs of the dining room table.

"Stop! You'll hit my wife!" He screamed. "He pointed his wand at the man. "Avada Kadavra!"

The auror again evaded his attack and made to aim his wand but he cried out in pain as a black hand of flames grabbed him by his left leg, completely burning through his calf. The man roared in absolute agony.

Lucius, in astonishment turned to see that Martin was dueling with no less than 12 aurors. He blocked and parried as the black flames danced across the room. The few spells that managed to pierce the flames were deflected off his mysteriously enchanted cloak. Martin had drawn his hood up over his head for extra protection.

The man on the ground continued to wail, holding what was left of his leg. Malfoy aimed his wand at the defenseless wizard.

"Avada Kadav-"

"Expelliarmus!" shouted a tall dark haired wizard.

Malfoy's wand flew through the air and the man caught it.

"Alastair, are you alright?!"

"Do I look alright, Frank?!"

"Stupefy!" shouted Frank. Malfoy fell backwards limp. Frank then turned to aim his wand at Martin who was now surrounded on all sides, though nearly a dozen wizards lay dead on the tiled floor around him.

"There's no reason to die today, son. Put down your wand and come quietly." An older, graying wizard called out firmly.

A young witch approached the old wizard on his left, she was trying to catch her breath from the immense heat being emitted from the black flames that were still dancing around the foyer. She aimed her wand squarely at Martin's chest and yelled, "Bombarda Maxima!"

Blue light streamed across the room and the spell found its mark. Martin did not attempt to defend the spell because he was more concerned with losing focus on the other 11 wizards and witches who had him surrounded. The spell hit him and almost caused his legs to buckle but the bulk of the spell's energy was absorbed by his cloak and rapidly expelled back out into the room.

The explosion was massive, causing pieces of the walls and ceiling to collapse. Dust and debris blanketed the room with momentary darkness.

Martin's reflexes were fast and he cast a shield charm over Narcissa, as debris bounced off of the invisible wall over her head.

Martin hurried to Narcissa's side.

"You have to get yourself out of here." He told her sternly.

"My husband. I can't leave him."

Martin searched her deep blue eyes. "Cissy, I'll stay with him. I've never been one to run from a fight." He smiled as he walked towards the fray.

Narcissa nodded and whispered something inaudible to him before running to the far end of the room.

"Sir, the enchantment on his cloak is too strong! We can't pierce it." The young witch called out.

Martin could hear the aurors fumbling around in the darkness trying not to trip over debris. Out the corner of his eye he saw Narcissa driving her shoulder into the door at the back of the room but it would not open.

He knew casting a spell to clear the door could cause the rest of the house to collapse onto her and he did not want that. He prepared himself to fight to the death. He reached into his cloak and drew out a second black wand. Martin slowly ran the wands down his opposite arms and whispered a spell to himself. At that moment, the room became bright as day. The sleeves of Martin's coat had erupted into brilliant blue flames that contrasted the black ones he had cast earlier. He ran at the room full of aurors with murder in his eyes.

He dodged, parried, and blocked the jinxes, hexes, and curses being hurled at him. The way he danced across the room was a thing of beauty, never a wasted movement. He flicked his left hand at a muscular wizard with red hair, and poisonous spiders appeared out of thin air, swarming him. The wizards screaming died out in a matter of seconds. Martin flicked his right hand at a witch with short blond hair, right as she began to aim a killing curse his way. He hit her squarely in the abdomen and her body turned to ash.

"Narcissa! Aim your strongest curse at her! All of you!" shouted the old wizard.

"Sir? She's pregnant." Shouted the witch from earlier.

"Do you want to die here, Doogle?!"

"No, sir." Doogle replied hesitantly.

"Than do as I say! All of you, on my mark."

Martin ran towards Narcissa who was cowering in the corner near the door. He pointed both wands at her and yelled, "Protego!" Two powerful shields appeared, one within the other.

He gave Narcissa a smile of assurance as the first group of spells hit him in the back. The wind was knocked out of him but he did not falter. A second group of spells hit him in the side as he made to turn around. The burning in his lungs this time was severe and he dropped to one knee. He looked up to see ten wands pointed at his face.

Narcissa let out a scream of fury. She tried to reach out for him but the wall he had put between them was too strong.

Martin did not raise his wand. He did not cry for mercy, nor did he grimace. He simply sighed to himself in finality as the green lights sped towards his hooded form. He tapped his wands on the hardwood floor simultaneously as the spells tore through his cloak, hitting him in the head, arm, chest, and legs. He collapsed onto the ground.

Narcissa's screams were deafening.

The aurors let out sighs of relief but they were too distracted to notice the final curse sent there way.

"Move you fools!" Moody shouted. He crawled away as quickly as he could with his mangled leg. It wasn't good enough, but to his surprise, Frank grabbed him and pulled him clear of the blast radius of the spell. He was barely out of range when the floor opened up forming a seemingly endless hole into oblivion. The other aurors never had time to scream as they fell to their deaths. The floor instantly closed up behind them.

At that moment, there were several loud bangs as Death Eaters apparated into the room with wands drawn.

"Longbottom, we have to go!" Moody shouted out with urgency.

Frank Longbottom looked bewildered and horrified as he looked around the room counting the bodies of his fallen comrades.

"Frank!"

Frank turned to Moody and nodded. He grabbed Moody by the arm and they both disapparated.

Little did they know that they were hardly noticed by the Death Eaters, who were distracted by the lifeless form on the floor.

A tall, muscular man with a mask obscuring his face looked down upon the body. "It appears that even the great Martin Bellwether couldn't escape death in the end." He spoke as if he pitied Martin.

Another masked figure turned to the tall man, before turning back to look down at Martin. "Too true, Yaxley. Too true."

At that moment pain shot through Agatha. She knew now that the baby was coming. She moaned loudly, and a little creature about 2 and a half feet tall ran into the room as another taller creature stood bashfully at the doorway of the room. Both had long pointy ears, large blue eyes, and long carrot shaped noses. They were what were commonly known as house elves and the elder of the two, a grave looking female, looked at Mrs. Bellwether with empathy in her eyes.

"Madame is it time?" the elder elf asked.

"Yes Bimpy… I… I think the baby's coming." Mrs. Bellwether let out a strained sigh.

Bimpy snapped her fingers and began calling out orders to the younger elf. The elf was much younger, in fact, and displayed the awkwardness, of a teenager that had not quite adjusted to his growing body.

"Leally, bring me some moist towels and some of the orange birthing potion." Bimpy demanded in a kind, but commanding tone. She had a soft, melodic voice.

Leally who looked extremely nervous turned around, running straight into the bedroom door, which was still ajar. He stumbled for a moment, caught his footing, and ran off down the long corridor. You'd think that the elves had no magic at all, but in actuality it was quite the opposite. House elves were known for their powerful magic, but seldom performed it in the presence of witches or wizards.

Bimpy helped Mrs. Bellwether steady her breathing and place more pillows under her lower back. Once her breathing finally calmed to short rhythmic breaths, Mrs. Bellwether spoke again.

"Bimpy?" she asked.

"Yes Madam." The elf replied.

"I'm scared… I don't think.." she let out a long breath before continuing. "I don't think… I'm going to make it… I love you, you know that… …and I want you to take care of my child—"

"Madam, you mustn't say such things. Your child will have a mother and a father and want for nothing." Said the elf boldly, almost as if she were meaning to convince herself of this as well.

"No." Mrs. Bellwether smiled. "I'm going to be with my husband soon. Take care of-"

At that moment Leally stumbled into the room with a number of vials of potion in his large outstretched hands.

Bimpy took the bright orange vial carefully from Leally's hand and pulled off the rubber stopper. In an instant, a pleasant flowery sent engulfed the room.

"Here madam, you must drink." Bimpy held the vial up and tipped the contents into Mrs. Bellwethers parted lips.

Mrs. Bellwether swallowed forcefully, but within moments began to looks as if new life had been given to her.

A number of things happened within the next few tense hours. Amidst the groaning, shouting, and sometimes crying, Leally lost track of time. Bimpy was giving out orders. Items were knocked all over the place from Leally trying his best to follow these orders. Eventually Bimpy would tell Leally to simply hold Mrs. Bellwethers hand, and that he could leave the rest to her. A couple more seconds, minutes, or maybe hours later and there he was, a beautiful baby boy. Bimpy wrapped the baby in a warm blanket and presented him to his mother.

With her remaining strength, Agatha reached out and lightly grasped the baby's hand. "My beautiful baby boy…" She turned to Leally looking him deeply in his big blue eyes before she continued. "Keep him safe."

Leally nodded as tears poured out of big round eyes.

At this Mrs. Bellwether released, the child's hand and her arm fell limply at her side. She shut her eyes, and spoke no more. The newborn child burst into loud cries.

It was a summer day when this happened.

 **CHAPTER TWO: THIS TIME ONCE MORE**

Tristan was a boy like most boys in England, and like most boys he loved sports, music, and getting into trouble he ought not to be into. He was a boy of tall stature and he had cheeks that always possessed traces of a smile. He was a boy of privilege and of means. There was very little in his life that was not afforded to him if he were only to ask. Nevertheless, Tristan had a secret, one that he had never shared with anyone outside the walls of Bellwether Manor. He was a child without parents. Well, that wasn't entirely true, was it? He was cared for and raised by an old house elf by the name of Bimpy.

Bimpy was a strict guardian and thorough in her teachings. She was a wise old elf who raised Tristan as best she could, given the unusual circumstances. She had found the name Tristan in book about an old muggle love story (muggle is the name that wizards gave non magical people). Bimpy loved reading and had an affinity for muggle romance novels. She also took to reading muggle biographies, stories of adventures, and even one or two books on parenting.

All in all, Bimpy raised Tristan as if he was her own child. Still, she was quite shocked upon learning that human children must eventually be enrolled in a school. She failed to send him to primary school until he was nearly six years old. A nosey round faced woman had found him playing in a nearby park, how he got there, she was unsure, but she accosted the boy and threatened to report his parents to the proper authorities, as all children his age should be in school. Bimpy, who was close by, had to hide for fear of being seen by a muggle, and decided at that moment that it would be best to send him to a muggle primary school. This however, proved very difficult as Bimpy had the hardest time keeping him in school. Every few years she would have to enroll him in a new school when his magical abilities were noticed by his peers.

Bimpy, knowing little of the norms of wizard's magic, did not find it peculiar that Tristan could often perform powerful magic without the use of a wand. The boy had learned to harvest his magic much like the house elves who did not use wands. Bimpy taught him many spells for everyday life, and Leally, Bimpy's biological son whom Tristan affectionately referred to as "brother", taught him jinxes that Bimpy would not teach him or did not want him learning.

When he was eight, Tristan accidently turned a fellow classmate's book into a tarantula. The class erupted in shrieks and Tristan was reprimanded, for what his teacher had assumed had been a pet spider he had brought from home. Bimpy was furious at Leally that night, though he apologized repetitively assuring her that it would never happen again. It did happen again.

At age 9, Tristan was taught a jinx to turn flowers into fireworks by Leally. Leally, thinking that the spell would be too difficult for Tristan, thought nothing of it. He would later receive another stern scolding when Bimpy found out that Tristan had been reprimand for setting off fireworks in the schoolyard. The outrage from the other parents was so strong, that Bimpy had to withdraw Tristan from that school, and send him to yet another school even farther away. Leally felt bad about this and apologized to Tristan frequently, but Tristan assured him that he had only been there for a short while and had therefore not had the chance to make friends.

In truth, Tristan hated going to school because he was always bullied for his odd looks. He had dark gray eyes and his coarse hair was a peculiar black spectacled with gray, giving him the look of child who was much older than his years. He was tall for his age, but very thin, which lead to the other kids having an easy time beating him up on several occasions. However, when his magic would start to manifest, the bullying would immediately cease. Of course, every new school ended up like that last, with all the children frightened of him.

Bimpy who was at her wits end, remembered reading in one of her muggle parenting books that bullied children often learned to thrive in their school environment when they were put in martial arts classes. Bimpy hoped that this would teach Tristan to control his magic if he could otherwise defend himself, so she enrolled him in Kung Fu. Her hunch was correct, Tristan stayed at his next school until the age of 11, when he was suspended, not for defending himself, but for defending a classmate from a gang of bullies led by one very round, very angry, blonde boy. He had hit him squarely in the nose, causing the boy to roll down a hill and into a rose bush. Of course, his parents were highly upset at having to remove thorns from the boy's backside for half of the night. They told Tristan as much the next day, and demanded that he be expelled from that school. Fortunately, he was allowed to finish out that school term but he was not allowed to come back.

On August 30th, 1991, just days before the start of the new school term, Tristan laid out on the lawn staring at the clouds next to Leally. The sun shined down on his mahogany skin. He unconsciously moved his hand through a gray patch in his hair. The gray, of course, was a result of his mother being hit by a hex before his birth, Bimpy repeatedly told him this when Tristan repeatedly asked.

Tristan knew little about his parents, besides what he could squeeze out of his father's portrait. Little known to him; however, was the private agreement Bimpy had made with his father's portrait to keep certain aspects of the wizarding world secret from Tristan until he was old enough to understand. Bimpy did not much like wizards and preferred muggles, though she had never actually met a muggle.

Tristan reached over and yanked a tall blade of the deep green grass at its base. He began tying it into little knots unconsciously.

"I'm starting a new school tomorrow." He said absently to Leally.

"This is the fifth one, isn't it?" Leally asked in his high nasally voice.

"I'm not sure. I stopped counting." Tristan replied. "But for some reason, before the first day of a new school, I get nervous. Like someone won't want me there."

"Nonsense! You quite often wind up being the most popular kid at school." Leally chimed in encouragingly.

"That's because of the magic, but before I… slip up, I'm usually the awkward new kid that nobody talks to." Tristan let out a sigh. "I want to have friends! Real friends!"

Leally looked a bit hurt and didn't respond.

Seeing the hurt on his face, Tristan quickly corrected himself. "Leally, you're my brother. It doesn't get much closer than that."

Leally gave him a slight smile. "Well, brother, it's best to get all the fun in we can before you get loads of homework. I hear there's a circus down in Wandsworth. If we're really careful, we can catch the show without being seen."

Tristan nodded in approval. Leally reached out and grasped his wrist and with a snap of his fingers they both disappeared with a loud crack.

Later that night, when Bimpy had asked them where they had been all day, and why they had neglected their chores, Leally had a hard time making up a story as to where they had gone, and why they had been gone so long.

"Uhh. We went down to the lake. Decided to go for a swim. We weren't seen." He hurriedly answered in short brief sentences.

In actuality, Leally and Tristan had managed to sneak high into the rafters, and watch the circus performance from above the crowd without ever being seen. Well, once a young boy pointed up at Tristan, but the child's mother shushed him and continued on watching the performance.

Tristan, who had found sitting on the steel beam very uncomfortable after about an hour, was exhausted from the long day and quickly ate his plate of diced chicken, steamed rice, and broccoli (Bimpy was a brilliant cook). Tristan bowed his head to thank Bimpy for the meal, before heading to the sink to clean his dish. It only took a few short scrubs to clean the sparse remains of the delicious meal. He placed his plate on the dish rack, and without another word, went up to his room to head to bed.

The next day, Bimpy woke him early in the morning to make sure that he would not be late on his first day.

She hurried him into the bathroom to shower, brush his teeth, and change clothes. When he had finished, he walked down the old winding staircase, following the fresh smell of bacon and eggs, down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Straighten your collar," Bimpy said as she scraped a hot pan of eggs into a plate set at the edge of the long kitchen table.

Tristan sloppily attempted to fix the collar of his striped black and gray polo. He approached the table, but instead of sitting, he lifted the plate to his chest, grabbed the fork set near to where the plate had been, and began eating while standing up.

Bimpy scolded him, "You're going to get food everywhere! Sit down and eat!"

It was too late. Tristan had swallowed down the eggs in a matter of seconds. He put the plate down and began to speak with bacon still crunching loudly in his mouth.

"So em gon to take de tran?" He asked through jumbled words. When Bimpy didn't respond. He swallowed and continued. "I'm going to take the train right?"

"Yes, it leaves at 7 am sharp. It's half 6 so you have time." Bimpy responded.

Tristan gave Bimpy a hug goodbye, jogging out of the front door.

The station was probably only a ten minute walk, but Tristan preferred to practice apparating, he had only done it successfully once before, but even Leally was stern about Tristan apparating at such a young age. Tristan walked into his backyard and hid behind a large tree. He squinted his eyes in concentration and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, and finally he felt a tug on his stomach as he was squeezed together from all sides and sucked into a finite hole. He disappeared with a loud bang and then reappeared less than a foot away from where he started. Tristan groaned because he was no closer to getting to the train station.

He called out for Leally, and moments later, the groggy house elf was standing next to him in a pair of flowery red pajamas.

"You called?" Leally asked trying to hold back a yawn.

"Yeah, can you take me to the station?"

Seconds later there was another loud crack and he was standing near a tall oak tree, only a couple yards away from the country train stop. It would be a 45 minute train ride into London, which Tristan found highly irritating. Bimpy would not allow him to risk being seen apparating so close to roves of muggles.

He waited patiently for the train, and a young couple, probably in their early 30's approached the platform with their daughter who was about his age. The man and woman looked solemn and neither spoke as the daughter stood with her eyes to the ground. The train came shortly and he fidgeted with his pocket change as the train came to a complete stop. The conductor stepped off of the train as all of the doors opened. He stepped on and paid for his ticket.

When he arrived in London he pulled out a map that Leally had given him one week prior. He had circled where Tristan's new school would be located. Tristan took off at a light brisk pace, for he loved to run, and took off down the main street towards his new school.

He arrived early, and the schoolyard was empty. It was a small school, with an old factory feel to it. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. The paper was his school itinerary, and he used it to navigate his way to his classroom. Seated in the corner of the classroom was a friendly looking woman in her early twenties. She hardly noticed as Tristan walked in and was startled when he spoke.

"Um, shall I sit anywhere or are the seats assigned to us?" He asked as politely as possible.

The teacher smiled jovially and waved at him. "Hello, what is your name?"

"I'm Tristan." He said slowly. "Woods." He added.

Tristan had been instructed by Bimpy not tell anyone his true last name secret. He was warned that his father was betrayed and that there were those who may seek to harm him as well.

"My name is Miss Thompson." Her eyes returned to her desk as she rummaged through the papers scattered upon her desk. "Excuse me, I've just been making name tags for you all." She picked out a piece of paper scanned it and then motioned for Tristan to come to her desk.

He approached the desk, and could the see the names of his classmates written out in various coloured markers. She handed him his name tag which was written in bright green letters.

"Here you go Tristan, you may sit where you like." She paused for a second as she noticed his hair for the first time. She smiled cordially, folded the paper so that it would sit up on his desk, and handed it to him.

Tristan picked out a desk in the back of the class, and sat there waiting for the other students.

At eight o'clock, the teacher stood up, with her jumble of papers now organized into a neat stack and she began to walk from desk to desk placing the nametags down. She had run out of nametags by the time she reached the desk next to Tristan. She eyed him curiously.

"I hope you're not trying to hide back here." She joked.

"I prefer not to sit somewhere where I can have things thrown at me from behind." He replied blandly.

"I don't allow that sort of behavior in my class. No one will pick on you. Understand?" she nodded her head assuringly.

Tristan smiled and nodded in return, "Okay."

Several minutes passed away in silence and then Tristan saw a peculiar sight. The family from the train marched into class with the father practically dragging the daughter. The mother was in tears, sobbing silently. The father was wearing a long emerald green cloak with a salmon coloured suit and tie. He looked like someone out of a circus. Next to him was a woman in a dark purple cloak and shiny yellow dress, and a pale girl around Tristan's age with long dark black hair.

"I don't wanna go!" The girl yelled. Her long velvety hair was draped over her face but he could see that her face was soaked in tears.

The father who had at first seemed stern, reached up and began wiping tears from his eyes as well. He turned to the teacher with a forced look of professionalism.

Miss Thompson was startled by the visitors, and up until that moment, was staring at the family dumbfounded. She walked over to greet them.

"Hello, and who are you my dear?" She asked, directing her question at the girl with the dark hair.

When she did not answer, her father piped up and said, "W-we've come to drop off our daughter for her day of lessons. " The man was clearly fighting back tears. "We are the Cobberlys. Are you Ms. Thompson?" he spoke with a shaky voice trying to remain calm.

"Yes," she answered. She got up from her desk and walked over towards the family.

"My daughter is new to the 'public school system' and she's just a bit nervous." said Mr. Cobberly

"Well, this is a great school and I'm sure she'll make loads of friends." She said as she kneeled down to meet eyes with the girl. "Hello, what's your name?" she asked the girl again.

The girl wiped her eyes and replied, "Cliona." She forced out.

"That's a pretty name."

Tristan couldn't help but stare at Cliona because of how oddly she was dressed. She wore an oversized jumper with bright flower patterns dancing across an orange background. Her skirt, looked more like the bottom half of a formal dress, and was an odd shade of lime green. Likewise, she wore boots that seemed as if they were made for trouncing around in the mud, rather than sitting in a class room.

As if she could sense his gaze upon her, the girls head darted up and she locked eyes with Tristan. She immediately stopped crying and scowled at him.

"Cliona, I wasn't expecting an extra student. I hope you forgive me but there's an extra seat in the back there next to Tristan." She motioned to the back of the classroom.

That seemed to make matters worse, the girl now completely just stared at Tristan, seemingly angry that he had gawked at her while she was crying.

"You'll be alright honey. Ms. Thompson will take good care of you, and you'll learn a lot." Cliona's mother spoke in a shaky voice and she leaned in to hug her daughter. Her father leaned in as well, and within moments they were waving their tearful goodbyes.

"First day in public school?" Ms. Thompson asked.

"Yes." Cliona replied blandly.

She walked to the seat in the back of the class next to Tristan but did not say a word to him.

She eyed Tristan as she approached the desk next to him, but she did not speak. She continued to glower as she seated herself facing the teacher. Tears slowly began to slide down her cheek.

Both Cliona and Tristan sat there in silence as the minutes ticked by, and Miss Thompson sat in the front of the class organizing her lesson material for the day.

Tristan, feeling a bit bored waiting there, decided to break the silence. He leaned close to Cliona speaking in a whisper.

"Oi, why are you crying?"

When she didn't respond he continued.

"Is it something I did?"

Cliona continued to face the front of the class, as she muttered angrily under her breath. "Why would it be something you've done?"

"I don't know."

"Anyways, it's none of your business." She snapped.

"Not very nice, are you?" Tristan laughed playfully.

Cliona scowled and balled her hands into fists.

"I'm Tristan."

The girl didn't reply.

Tristan sighed. "Well you don't have a nametag on your desk, so it's best if you introduce yourself."

She scowled at him. Taking this as a fair warning, he left her alone and focused on the first trickle of children beginning to make their way into the classroom.

The room quickly became filled with the noise of excited school children, back from their summer holiday. The children were boisterous and hardly noticed Tristan and Cliona sitting quietly in the back of the classroom.

"Find your seats, everyone!" The teacher called out cheerfully. She had to speak very loudly to get their attentions. "I've given you nametags, which will be on your desks."

The children now made their way through the desks searched for their names. It was then that they began to notice Tristan and Cliona sitting quietly in the back of the classroom. One by one, the children's eyes surveyed Tristan, his streaked gray hair and dark gray eyes, but there attention would inevitably fall on Cliona who, like her parents, looked like something out of a circus. Her bright green poncho and flowery pajama pants caused the other children to snigger amongst themselves.

A curly blonde boy with braces sat a few seat down from Tristan, to the left of Cliona, who didn't seem to find interesting. The boy stared at Tristan's hair, as children tended to do, and then sat down hesitantly.

"Hello," said the curly haired boy. "You must be new here." My name is Robbie." He looked up at Tristan's hair again. "Bloody hell, what's up with your hair?" he blurted out louder than he intended.

Many of the students turned to look at Tristan. Cliona turned her head slightly, feigning disinterest.

"I was struck by lightning!" he said loudly so that all of the gawking student could hear.

Cliona's face burned red as children started pointing at her. A thin boy with dark brown hair and an arrogant smile approached the desk in front of hers. He read his nametag, but did not sit down.

"I've never seen you before" the boy said callously.

The blonde girl seated to his right, and in front of Tristan, chimed into the inquiry. "Oi, John, I think she's new. She dresses as weird as those _folks_ down in the village."

"Do your parents always let you walk out the house like that?" The boy asked, this time smirking.

Cliona didn't answer.

A chubby redheaded boy, who had no doubt decided that he didn't want to be associated with Cliona moved his desk up, to put more space between himself and Cliona, before sitting.

John turned to look at the towering figure of the portly redheaded boy. "You're new here too. Good choice not sitting too close to her."

The redheaded boy had an intimidating manner about him, so John went back to glowering at Cliona.

The blonde girl faced Cliona, "Don't mind John there, he's a bit of a prat. It's okay if your parents were too poor to afford proper clothes. My parents donate loads of clothes for the less fortunate. As a matter of fact, I think those are my old pajamas." She pretended to look closely. "Those are my old pajamas!"

The students within earshot began to laugh loudly. Even the stern redheaded boy cast a mocking glance at Cliona.

Tristan felt bad for her, but there was hardly a thing he could do to help her. The bell rang and Ms. Thompson eventually called the attention of the class to her.

At lunch time, Cliona did not eat in the cafeteria. Tristan sat at the far end of a long table by himself. At the other end were a group of students, including the blonde girl from earlier and John. No one bothered Tristan. No one talked to him.

When he had finished the tuna sandwich that Bimpy had made for him, he emptied out the rest of his paper bag, which contained a pack of crisps and a small bottle of milk. He gathered his food and decided he would try to look for Cliona.

He found her sitting outside, hiding next to a large group of trash cans. She was in tears.

Tristan approached her. "Don't cry." He said plainly.

She looked up, her red eyes soaked with tears. She did not respond.

Tristan sat down next to her but she scooted away.

He opened his pack of crisps and reached out his hand to offer her some.

"I didn't see you eat. We've still got another few hours. Trust me, it can be quite a long time to wait before you get to grab a bite to eat again."

She turned her head away from him, to indicate that she did not care how hungry he said she would be later.

"Look, I've been there. I know what you're going through. I've been in over eight different schools in five years. Eventually, you learn how to not stand out so much."

"I don't want to learn to not stand out. I don't want to be at this sort of school." Her voice was cracking, from having not been used all day and from the constant crying.

"Where were you at before this?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

Tristan reasoned he would have to try another strategy to get her to talk to him.

"I'll tell you my biggest secret, if you tell me yours." He hadn't really thought this through properly before he spoke, because he had so many secrets that he could never tell anyone. Nevertheless, he felt that this was the only way to get her to open up.

She cracked a brief smile and nodded. "Anything?"

"Yeah, but you first, though!" Tristan added quickly.

"No fair, I thought you were going to go first." she smiled more broadly this time and paused. "Oh well, it's not like you'll have any clue what I'm talking about anyway."

"Try me." he replied playfully.

"Um. The thing is..." she stopped, and it seemed as if she was considering not telling him at all. "I'm a squib!" She blurted out. A lot louder than it seemed she intended.

"A what?" asked Tristan. He sniggered. "I thought you were going to tell me a _real_ secret."

She didn't laugh, but she reached out for the bag of open crisps. Tristan handed them to her.

"Seriously" she continued, "That's my secret. My parents were heartbroken, because I-" she trailed off. "I didn't get a letter from Hogwarts."

"Hog-what?"

"I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"Well, um, I don't, but I've heard of Hogwats before. I think."

"Hogwarts." It was Cliona's turn to snigger. "No you haven't." she said snorting with laughter.

"Guess not." he replied, still sure that he had heard that name before. He thought that Bimpy had mentioned it a long time ago when talking about his father. Maybe he misheard her.

"Your turn." Cliona said jovially.

Tristan smiled back at her, but was still mulling over in his mind what secret he would tell her. He couldn't tell her, his real name. That was one secret he made a promise to keep. Nor could he tell her that his ability to make magical things happen, is the reason why he got expelled from so many schools. He decided to go with a secret that she wouldn't believe.

"I was raised by a house-elf."

Tristan did not hear the laughter that he was expecting. He did not even hear what he assumed would be accusations of him being silly or lying. Cliona was silent.

"Nevermind, I guess I'll tell you another more believable-"

"Are you a wizard?" Cliona cut in.

Tristan's mouth dropped open. "No, I- Wait. How do you know about wizards?"

Cliona was about to answer but the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, and they had only a few minutes to get back to class.

"We'll talk later?" Cliona asked.

"Yeah." Tristan agreed

They arrived back in class after the rest of the class, who were already seated at their desks. Tristan and Cliona hurried to their desks. As Cliona passed John, his face crinkled up into a grimace.

"Eww. What's that awful smell?" He blurted out loud enough for half of the class to hear, but not the teacher.

They students sniggered quietly to themselves.

Tristan, who was walking behind Cliona, still had his small bottle of milk in his hand. He popped off the cap and pretend to trip. The milk landed on the top of John's head spilling on his hair, face, and down his shirt. The class now pointed at John and began roaring with laughter.

Tristan was now on the floor, trying to sell his impromptu fall. He looked up at John.

"Sorry, mate! I wasn't watching where I was going." he said in his most convincing apologetic voice.

The blonde boy cast Tristan a fierce glance. Tristan then noticed that he had accidently spilled a few drops of milk on the boy's shoes.

"Eh, sorry." Tristan whispered.

The boy did not reply.

Miss Thompson hurried over with a towel that she had grabbed from her desk. She wiped down the milk from John's hair and face and sent him to go finish drying himself off.

John left the room with his head down, and Miss Thompson turned to Tristan, who was just now climbing to his feet.

"This is only a warning Tristan, but food and drink are not allowed in the classroom," she said sternly.

"Sorry, Miss Thompson." he replied politely.

Cliona was beaming at him and mouthed the words, "thank you."

The rest of the day was uneventful. The teacher reviewed what they should have learned in Math and Science the previous year, and when the teacher passed out calculators to the class, Cliona played with hers not knowing what it was for or how to use it.

Tristan sat fidgeting in his seat, for the next few hours, occasionally stealing a glance at Cliona who was paying little to no attention to the lesson. She continued tapping the small black calculator gingerly as if it may explode. She glanced over at him a few times as well, and she too appeared ready for the day to be over.

When the final bell rang, Tristan waited impatiently for the teacher to dismiss the class. She was going on about her summer cruise.

"I had the chance to see Athens, and my boyfriend and I took a yacht out to Mikonos. It was beautiful!" Miss Thompson said with an air of longing.

She looked down to see that all of her students were watching the clock instead of her, and she decided that it was time that she let them go. She dismissed them a few minutes early, and the children jumped to their feet.

Tristan gathered his papers and shoved them into his bag, but he had a hard time getting to Cliona, because a group of students had stayed behind to talk with him. He saw that Cliona didn't have a bag, and was carrying a stack of books in her arms looking very uncomfortable. She was waiting for him, but her arms looked like they may give out at any moment.

The curly haired brunette boy with braces was standing inches away from Tristan's face. The boy was so close that Tristan could see a piece of fruit wedged between two of his bottom teeth. The boy spoke eagerly.

"I can't believe you did that!" the boy cried out excitedly. "John's had it coming for a while. Bullies all the people he thinks aren't cool enough, he does."

Voices of the other children chimed in agreement. They were patting him on the back and showering him with compliments.

"What a great joke!" said a girl with wirery glasses, and long front teeth. "I bet he finally knows what it feels like to be laughed at by everyone." She pointed to the boy with the braces, "Tim and I get it the worst."

Tristan, wasn't paying much attention, though. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Cliona's face was going red with strain.

"Um, excuse me guys. I have to be outside when my parents come." he lied. He squeezed between the adjacent row of desks and reached Cliona.

"You need help with that?" he pointed to the books seconds away from falling.

She nodded with relief strewn across her face.

Tristan took the books and put as many as he could fit in his bag, and decided to carry her science book, since there was no room. "You need to buy a bag for you school books!"

 _Cliona shrugged._ "So," she said leaning over in a whisper, "tell me more about your house-elf."

"She's not my house-elf." He replied. "She's a free elf." He looked around cautiously. "I'll tell you when we get outside."

But they wouldn't have the chance to go outside together, because Cliona's parents we're standing just outside the classroom door. Looking just as conspicuous as they did earlier that day.

"Cliona, honey!" her mother motioned for her to come over.

Tristan followed, a few paces behind her.

Cliona's parents eyed him suspiciously.

Tristan caught up to Cliona, "I've still got your books remember."

"Right! Um, just one second. Let me introduce you to my parents." She turned to her mother and father who were staring at Tristan as though he looked familiar. "Mom, dad, this is Tristan Woods."

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Cobberly." I saw you on my train ride into town, so I reckon we live pretty close."

At this Cliona's parents seemed alarmed but they said nothing. Mrs. Cobberly was the first to speak. My dear child, you must be like our Cliona.

Cliona nudged him to play along.

"Yes, he's a squib as well." Cliona said.

"Yep, I'm a squib." Tristan confirmed

"Keep your voices down!" Mr. Cobberly scolded.

Cliona and Tristan nodded.

Tristan waved and made to leave.

"Aren't you taking the train with us?" Cliona's mother asked.

Tristan had intended on taking the train, but he was afraid of the questions he might be faced with if confined to a compartment with Cliona's mother and father for 45 minutes.

"I just need to speak with the teacher for a bit. No need to wait for me."

Cliona looked disappointed. She turned to Tristan, "It looks like all have to wait another time to hear your fantastic story."

Tristan nodded disappointedly. He removed the bag from his back and handed her back her books.

She gave Tristan a quick smile of affirmation as she as she walked towards her parents. Her father quickly took the books from her hands and placed them in a sack that he brought with him. The sack wasn't small, but it was hardly large enough for her to fit all of her box inside. Nevertheless, to Tristan's great surprise, the books slid almost effortlessly into the bag.

Tristan watched as she left with her parents and waved them goodbye. He made is a way out of the school and into the adjacent woods. Once he was sure that no one could see him, he closed his eyes and thought really hard about his home. "115 Purall Lane. 115 Purall Lane. 115 Purall Lane. He thought to himself repetitively."

He felt that familiar tugging behind his naval, almost as if he was being pulled inside out and folded upon himself over and over again. After what felt like several long seconds, he finally finished compressing himself to the minutest point and disappeared with a loud crack. He decompressed almost at once and crumpled onto the walkway in front of his house.

He was shocked to find himself back at home. "That wasn't so bad," he said to himself, shaking off his nerves. He collected himself and climbed to his feet, but he felt a sharp pain under his shirt. He raised his shirt to see that there was a gouge out of his abdomen and he was bleeding profusely. He screamed and called out for Bimpy.

Bimpy who was so worried for Tristan's wellbeing neglected to ask him how he had come about this injury. She had Leally fetch her an unnamed milky white potion, and within seconds, Tristan's skin was beginning to grow back.

At dinner that night, Tristan sat at the long dining table with Bimpy. Leally was not there, nor was he anywhere to be seen since the apparition debacle.

After dinner, Tristan cleaned off the table and began washing the dishes by hand. Bimpy smiled at him.

"Dinner was delicious today, mum."

"Thank you, dear." She approached Tristan. "You don't have to clean the dishes all on your own. Let me help."

"That's okay. You cooked. It's only right that I wash the dishes." Leally was usually there to help with cleaning up after dinner, but they had finished their meal without a sign of him.

Tristan finished cleaning within 20 minutes and made his way up the long winding staircase of the creaking manor to his bedroom. His room was on the third floor at the end of the hall. He passed the familiar portraits of his great grandparents and settled himself in his room. He took out his books and began studying until he fell asleep.

Tristan was up bright and early the next day. He grabbed a muffin and an apple and headed for the door.

"Don't forget your lunch!" cried Bimpy.

Tristan turned to grab a brown paper bag from the kitchen table.

Tristan was the first to arrive at school that day and he waited outside of the school enthusiastically. He was not waiting long when he heard a faint crack. Cliona and her parents were walking out of a nearby park overrun with trees. This time they were dressed in identical bright blue robes, while Cliona wore a slightly less conspicuous bright blue sundress. Clearly she was aiming to not be teased today. Her parents had not walked all the way to the school before she waved them away. They kissed her, disappeared into the wooded park, and there was another faint crack.

Cliona hurried over to Tristan, who was now sitting on a bench in front of the school.

"Alright Tristan?" Cliona shouted happily. "I told my parents that I had to be to school earlier today!"

"I reckon it's still awhile before the school opens. The teachers haven't arrived yet." Tristan remarked.

Cliona sat down next to him. "Well, Mr.- Uh…Tristan" She giggled.

"Mr. Tristan"

"I don't know your last name, Tristan."

"I go by Woods. Tristan Woods." He answered.

"I don't know any wizarding families by that last name? Are you muggle born?" She questioned.

"Muggle? Oh! A nonmagic person?"

Cliona frowned. "Not all 'nonmagic" people are muggles."

"Well, Woods is not my last name but it's the name I go by. And I'm not magical and not quite a muggle." He replied.

"Not magical? Well then how do you know about house-elfs?"

"I was raised by one."

Cliona sniggered but when Tristan did not laugh she stopped abruptly.

"Wait, you're serious? I've never heard of that being allowed. What about your parents?" She asked.

Tristan had never talked to anyone about his parents before and he felt a sense of protection over their memory.

"They were murdered." Tristan said bluntly.

Cliona gasped. "By You-know-who?"

"Who?"

Cliona paused, gathering up courage as she whispered. "Voldemort."

"Volde- Oh right! Yeah, Bimpy always refers to him as 'no nose.' Apparently it's a nickname my father used to call him."

"No nose? Why no nose?" Cliona asked.

"Apparently you weren't meant to say his name, so my dad did the logical thing and described him. I'm guessing he didn't have a nose, though I've never seen a picture of him." Tristan sighed.

"Nor have I." Cliona chimed in. "If I'm being honest…" she continued. "I think my parents were supporters of his. They were into the whole pure-bloods only sentiment, but then they ended up with a daughter like me, and…" she stared off distantly determined not to cry.

"Bimpy says my father worked for him, though he didn't like him much." He sighed and offered Cliona a bit of truth. "Before my father was murdered, he was so feared that Bimpy says his enemies might target me just to spite his memory. For that reason I can't tell people my last name or that I know magic."

"You know magic?!" Cliona exclaimed. "Why aren't you at Hogwarts? You should have gotten a letter!"

"Letter? No, I didn't get one, and I don't reckon I want to go to school with wizards. Bimpy says they're evil."

"But you _are_ a wizard!" Cliona shouted. "Do you know how many people would love to have the opportunity to have magical abilities?" She glowered at him accusingly. "You're wasting your gift!"

"Please, let's not dwell on that." Tristan replied.

 **CHAPTER 3: BONNIE THE BOGGART**

The following weeks Cliona and Tristan grew closer and spent nearly ever free hour of the day together. Cliona's parent's had arranged for her and Tristan to take a portkey to and from school every morning and afternoon. Cliona even began coming around to the Bellwether Manor, though she seldom went inside due to, as she put it, "the creepiness factor." It was on a Saturday morning, in late September, that Cliona finally agreed to explore the large manor with Tristan. Even Tristan had not explored all of the rooms because he had no reason to. They sat outside playing until the sky, which was already very overcast, unleashed a torrent of rain. Cliona gasped and muttered something about ruining her new dress and suggested that they both go inside the manner.

They were alone that morning, as Bimpy was down in Diagon Alley shopping, and Leally was rarely seen at all these days.

Tristan hurried and pushed in the large oak door as heavy rain splattered the patio. Tristan and Cliona removed their shoes and entered into the main hallway. Tristan led Cliona to the kitchen.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

"No, thank you." Cliona replied. She was staring intently at the large metal box in the far corner of the room. "You have a television?"

"Oh, yeah. Bimpy loves to watch it while I'm away at school. Personally, I think she watches too many romance movies." He laughed.

"But this is one of the oldest wizarding manors. At least that's what my father says." She stated.

"Bimpy, says my grandfather had a few electrical outlets installed. Apparently, he was very attached to the muggle world." He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. "Luckily he did, or I would have been bored all those years since I had no friends."

Cliona appeared saddened by this information. She walked over to the table, "It is sad. Being cut off from the magical world and being not fully apart of the muggle world either."

Suddenly there was a loud bang, as if several heavy items had dropped from a substantial height. Cliona jumped clear off the ground and searched the room for the ruckus.

"I think it came from the basement," Tristan said. He was resigned to sit there in his chair and ignore the noise.

"Are you just going to sit there? What if it's a burglar? Or a poor animal could be trapped down there." She gave Tristan a concerned look.

"I've heard banging before. I don't go down there. Not that I'm afraid of my own basement, but I'm perfectly content with pretending it doesn't exist." He was beginning to feel anxiety that Cliona would force him to explore his own creepy basement. Not that he was afraid, just that he was cautious and what better way to keep one's self safe then to ignore strange and unusual sounds.

"I can't sit her knowing there could be something down there, for better or for worse." She reached out and grabbed Tristan's hand, dragging him to his feet. "Come on!"

She led Tristan through the hallway, following the direction of the loud noise. They passed a broom closet and Tristan halted her and reached inside and pulled out a wooden broom and a wooden mop.

"Just in case." He said.

"You want to clean?"

"Weapons." He explained.

He marched forward towards the basement door, gulped and then opened it slowly.

"It's dark in there. Can you turn on a light?" Cliona said nervously.

"Um. There's no electricity down there." He was breathing heavily but he progressed down the steep, narrow staircase. There was minimal light coming from the hallway but it provided dim glow which allowed them to watch their feet as they tiptoed down the creaky wooden stairs. Cliona was barefoot and extremely cautious not to step on any splintered wood.

"On second thought, I don't think this is a good idea." Cliona squeaked nervously.

"Too late to back out now." Tristan jibed. He could just make out a curtain covering a small basement window and he hurried over and moved the curtain so that they could have a little more light. His hands became wrapped in webbing and spiders fled as Tristan tried hurriedly to wipe off the web from his fingers.

Cliona gasped.

With the new lighting, they could see a pile of old picture frames that had been knocked to the floor.

"This must have been what fell." Cliona reached down and picked up one of the frames. In the frame were two boys. The taller boy was black with patches of gray hair, he looked about 16 years old. He had his arm wrapped jovially around the smaller of the two boys, who was pale with long blonde hair. They were both laughing and waving at the camera.

"That's my father." Tristan stated plainly. He startled Cliona as he pointed over her shoulder.

Cliona rubbed the dust off of the cracked frame with her blouse. "He's very handsome." Cliona looked up at Tristan and blushed.

Tristan didn't appear to notice. He stared deeply at the second boy in the frame. "I'm not sure who he is though."

They heard another ruckus coming from an old dresser a few feet in front of them and before Cliona could reach out and pull him back, Tristan had bounded over and opened the drawer. She gasped in terror, arms still outstretched.

She backed away as a dark mist rose into the air from the opened drawer. The mist settled in fronts of Tristan and began changing shape. Tristan was too surprised to be scared though he knew to back away from the floating, changing blob of mist. The mist kept growing and before long it was beginning to take the form of a towering figure with large muscular arms, grayish skin, and large vacant eyes.

"Troll!" Cliona screamed. She made to run for the door but her legs gave way in fear. She covered her head, still screaming.

Tristan hurried over and stood between her and the troll. He shouted up at the troll. "You can't be a troll! How can a troll fit in that little drawer?!"

The troll's vacant face became one of confusion. It leaned down as it stomped its way forward. Its face was inches away from Tristan's, and it let out a deafening roar. Oddly enough, Tristan didn't budge.

Cliona squinted at the creature briefly and then shut her eyes again.

This time, the creature began growing even larger. Its neck elongated and leathery wings sprouted from its back.

Again Tristan stared down the creature. He'd never seen a dragon in person before but he had never thought of them as terrifying. In fact, he was quite fascinated by them. Hardened rust coloured scales covered every inch of the dragon's hide. The dragon's eyes were ruby red and burning embers could be seen within its gaping mouth.

Cliona cowered in fright, not daring to peer up at the towering monster.

"I don't know what you are, but I'm not afraid of you!" Tristan shouted up at the creature.

The dragon locked eyes with Tristan, its large cat-like pupils staring into Tristan's small, very much human pupils. Moments later it began to shrink.

It continued to shrink until it had reduced its form to the size of a human. It wore a dark green cloak and a hood covered its head. Curly brown hair draped down around the creatures neck. It turned to Tristan again and this time he backed away in fright.

"Y-you're not her!" he stammered.

The creature continued to advance and Tristan once again retreated back towards the far wall of the basement.

"Stay away from me!" he screamed. He stumbled backwards and fell hard onto the concrete floor.

It was Cliona's turn to be brave and she jumped in front of Tristan shielding him with her arms spread wide. The creature faltered for a moment. As Cliona stood there facing the creature her legs visibly trembled.

The creature once again began to change form. This time only briefly. Where the cloaked woman had stood, an attractive brown skin woman stood in nothing but polka dot underwear.

A blue light suddenly glimmered dimly in the room. The light was getting brighter and brighter. Cliona turned to see that Tristan had once again climbed to his feet. In his hands he held two bright blue flames. Tristan's eyes had changed from gray to white and his facial expression was vacant.

He lifted his hand to throw the blue flame, but he was taken off guard by the sound of sniggering. He searched the basement for the source of the laughter, and he could see that this was hardly a basement at all; they were in a laboratory. Nevertheless, the faint laughter eluded him. Cliona nudged his shoulder and pointed to the woman that he had once thought was his mother. She was hunched over and he was embarrassed to see that she was only wearing pink polka dot underwear. He quickly turned his head blushing furiously.

 _Wait a second_ , he thought. _Was that woman laughing?_

He glanced at the woman again, and sure enough, her shoulders were shaking with laughter.

The woman shrank and dissolved into a floating black mass before taking the hazy form of a creature that looked much like a bunny. Tristan would have found the animal to be cute if he had not seen it turn into a dragon only moments earlier.

The small rabbit-like creature continued to squeak, which Tristan took as laughter.

Without really meaning to do so, the blue flame leapt from Tristan's hands and towards two lamp posts positioned on either side of the room.

Light from the blue flames danced across the basement walls like ocean waves. Tristan and Cliona stared in utter astonishment at the sheer size of the laboratory. This basement laboratory must have been more than three times as wide as the manor that sat on top of it.

To his right, there were long rows of cabinets, each adorned with odd symbols that Tristan had never seen before. To his left there were vials, flasks, cauldrons, and other experimental accessories. The fluid in the experiments looked old and dust coloured.

Along the far wall of the laboratory Tristan could make out a series of circular glass cases, the tallest of which being nearly 15 feet tall. A long black cloak floated in its mist filled glass.

"Wow, can you believe this has been here all along?" Tristan said, still in awe.

When Cliona didn't respond he turned to find her following the violet coloured bunny creature as it hopped from table to table, taking care not to knock over any of the delicate lab equipment. The creature took one final hop and landed on a table with an open class case, much like the ones Tristan had seen earlier, except much smaller, and the glass had been darkened till it was practically opaque. The creature sauntered up to the glass case. There was a placard pasted to the glass, which Tristan could not read from where he was standing.

Before Cliona could read it aloud, the disembodied voice of a woman announced. "Bonnie the Boggart, circa 1373. Danger level 1."

"What's a boggart?" Tristan called out as he walked over to her.

"I've never seen one before, but my mom told me that they were some sort of shapeshifting pest." Cliona replied.

Bonnie stared up at Cliona with its wide violet eyes. Cliona pushed aside messily strewn papers on the desk and picked up a dusty folder labeled "Bonnie". She opened the folder and read the note stuck to the inner cover.

"During my time in Scotland I happened across a small village where locals had stories of a creature that lurked in the shadows and could appear as their worst nightmares. I deduced that the creature was probably a common boggart but I did not want to take this case too lightly due to my research on the "Screaming Bogey of Strathtully." This case, however, perplexed me, because the creature was often found to be quite mischievous and used its shapeshifting ability to play practical jokes as well and people often reported phantom laughter. The villagers had rather fondly named the creature "Bonnie" because they felt like it was the spirit of a playful princess that had passed away. Stories of a long lost princess that loved playing practical jokes arose amongst the community but no one knew how to bring her spirit to peace. When I arrived at the village, I discovered immediately that they were dealing with the presence of a boggart. The common theory is that boggarts are neither conscious nor are they alive, but this isn't true. Moreover, while boggarts amongst most scholars are considered non-beings, this boggart seemed to have a particularly heightened sense of self-awareness. In fact, she (and I do believe it is a she) enjoyed a good laugh almost as much as a scare." After a week long ordeal of trying to capture her, I grew rather fond of her cunning. Finally, I managed to do what no wizard in recorded history had managed to do up until now. I persuaded the boggart to show me its true form. Not having the heart to remove Bonnie from her home, I packed my belonging and headed back to England only to find that she had stowed away in my luggage. I've decided to keep her."

Bonnie sat there patiently as Cliona finished reading and sat the folder back down onto the messy desk. She stared back at the creature examining it.

"I think she likes you." Tristan said with amusement in his voice.

He turned back to the tall glass case against the far wall. "What do you reckon that is?" He pointed to the floating cloak.

"I don't know, but it looks creepy. We should leave it be." Cliona replied cautiously.

Tristan wasn't listening. His feet were carrying him faster and faster towards the mysterious object. When he got close enough to the glass, he could see that the cloak appeared to be taking shape. He rubbed his shirt sleeve against the glass. He could see that cloak was covering a tall, thin skeletal figure.

The disembodied voice returned again and he let out a startled cry.

"Dementor. Leader of the Brasov Pack. Approximate age 1500 years. Danger level 5. Do not open."

"Tristan?! Tristan!" Cliona ran over to where he was standing with his mouth agape. The boggart was perched on her shoulder. "What are you looking at?" She squinted hard at the tall murky glass and let out a cry of her own. "What is that?!"

She pointed at the shriveled and decaying arm which could be seen in the area glass Tristan managed to wipe clean. The arm lay there limp at the creature's side.

"There's a sign, next to the glass." Tristan pointed to a dusty wooden placard with the words: DANGER DO NOT OPEN.

"It appears to be in a state of suspended animation." He declared.

"Suspended animation?" Cliona asked.

"Like a long sleep. I definitely think it's still alive." He glanced at the other glass containers and he could make out differing forms floating in their murky abyss. "I think they're all alive, in one way or another."

Cliona followed his eye line and grimaced at the row of bodies floating in various glass containers.

"Let's get out of here, Tristan." She didn't wait for a response and began walking towards the staircase. Bonnie hopped down from her shoulders and floated back to her opaque glass case.

Tristan reluctantly followed Cliona. There was so much more he wanted to know, but he didn't dare stay in the basement by himself. He climbed the stairs after her. At the top step, the blue flames were extinguished and the basement was once again blanketed in darkness.

Over the next week, Tristan had managed to convince Cliona to once again visit the basement on three more occasions. Bonnie was delighted to see them, and to Tristan's dismay she transformed into his mother in polka dot underwear on every occasion. Cliona found it amusing every single time and began making requests. She would close her eyes and think of classmates in various funny outfits or with clown makeup on and Bonnie would impersonate them. Tristan found this amusing, as well.

Additionally, they had managed to peruse through several cabinets and match runes to the creatures in the jars. There were banshees, ghouls, and grindylows, ruflebarts, and etomaxes, to name a few. However, they had yet to find more information on the nameless dementor.

Additionally, Tristan had mustered up the courage to introduce Cliona to Bimpy, who was delighted to see that Tristan was making friends, especially a friend who came from the magical community. Likewise, Cliona's parents were happy to see that she had made friends with another squib, as they thought Tristan was. Nevertheless, Cliona's parents, Aengus and Aileen Cobberly, were not very kind to Tristan, and he rarely spent time at the Cobberly's house when they were around. Tristan had taken a personal disliking to them because they were cruel to the house elf that served them.

At school, Tristan and Cliona had managed to make a lot of friends. Tristan became very popular because he was quick witted and charming. Cliona, however, still faced problems with several students who felt that she was a little "too awkward to be human." Emma, the blonde girl who had been teasing Cliona the first day of school, continued to try to turn the students in the class against her. She would lead them in the whispered chant of, "Cli-alien" behind Cliona's back. Despite continuously assuring Cliona that Emma was jealous of her, he could tell that the taunting was getting to her.

On the first day of October, Cliona became so enraged by the continuous shouts, that she cornered Emma and punched her square in the nose. Emma was sent to the nurse's office with a minor nose bleed and Cliona was sent home early. Around lunch that day, Tristan became worried because he realised that they did not normally take a portkey back home until much later in the day. He decided to skip his daily lessons and go looking for her to make sure she was alright.

He found her bag sitting next to the portkey, but she was nowhere in sight. He looked around, but all he could find were disturbed patches of grass and scarred trees. He decided that perhaps the portkey had worked after all. He grabbed her things and ran back to the school. When he came back into the classroom, he expected to be scolded, but the teacher was surprised to see him carrying Cliona's belongings.

"Tristan?" Miss Thompson asked with a worried expression on her face, "Have you seen Cliona?"

"No, ma'am. I saw her things lying outside so I decided-"

Miss Thompson darted out of the room without allowing Tristan to finish his statement. The class began murmuring loudly.

Tristan walked over to Timothy. "What's going on?"

Timothy spoke in a voice that reminded Tristan of someone trying to speak with hot food in their mouth. "Apparently, Cliona was supposed to wait for someone to pick her up from school, but she left before her parents could be contacted. Miss Thompson had a hard time reaching them, and when she did, they said that they would arrange to come get her. That was at half 11. Her mother came here and then went back home to check if Cliona was there, when she couldn't find her, she came back here."

"Wow." Tristan interjected

"I know, it makes you wonder, how someone can even travel that fast. I mean, she was back within minutes."

The other students in the class were muttering under their breaths, afraid to say what they were no doubt thinking.

Miss Thompson burst back into the classroom, and the students fell silent. "Mr. Brown, please come with me."

Tristan turned to follow Miss Thompson out of the room, Cliona's backpack still slung over his shoulder.

In the Dean's office, Mrs. Cobberly was pacing nervously, tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sure she got lost while walking through the woods. The woods aren't very big, and shouldn't take her long to reach the opening on the other side. We can call the police and have them look there." The Dean said reassuringly. He was a small man, with long brown hair tied tight into a ponytail. He wore a dull blue suitcoat and he had a deep authoritative voice.

Tristan had only seen the Dean on one other occasion but for some reason, the Dean seemed to be behaving oddly. Perhaps he too was worried that some criminal mischief had taken place.

Mrs. Cobberly turned and spoke. "I'm worried because there are those who would want to hurt us for our political beliefs… Well, our former political beliefs. My husband and I, we supported an unpopular candidate so to speak."

"John Redwood? I dare say he was very unpopular." Miss Thompson chimed in.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and Miss Thompson started. She looked around puzzled at the calm demeanor of everyone else in the room.

"Was that a gunshot?!" She yelled.

Mr. Cobberly walked into the Deans office looking deeply troubled. "Aileen, I think they've come for our baby." He walked up to her and embraced her, tears in his eyes as well."

"Mr. Cobberly we will notify the police as soon as we have a concrete lead." The Dean told him in a calming voice.

Miss Thompson was still looking around for the source of the loud bang, and her head was still poked cautiously out of the office door.

Suddenly something clicked in Tristan's mind.

He abandoned all caution. "I'm surprised you would apparate here Mr. Cobberly, you could have been seen."

Everyone in the room except for Miss Thompson unconsciously cringed at the word "apparate".

"Apparate?" Miss Thompson turned to Tristan.

"Yes, that's what that loud bang you heard was. It's a way for magical beings to get to and from places almost instantaneously." He clarified.

"Tristan what are you talking about?" she stammered.

Mrs. Cobberly was hardly coherent, but Mr. Cobberly cut across Tristan. "Stop it, boy! We have enough problems as it is. We don't want muggles knowing anymore than they have too!"

Again, everyone in the room except for Miss Thompson cringed at the word, muggle.

"It seems so. I don't know much about magic as I'm still very young, but is there some way for an individual to change his form to look like another person?" he asked Mr. Cobberly.

Mr. Cobberly looked at the Dean and Miss Thompson, and then lowered his voice so only Tristan could hear. "That's difficult magic boy, very difficult, unless you're a metamorphamagus. The only other method is polyjuice potion."

"Well, Mr. Cobberly I think he's done one of those things."

"Who, boy? Spit it out!"

Tristan pointed angrily. "The Dean. I'm assuming Cliona was sent to his office. It should have been his job to watch her, but instead she was sent out alone before you or Mrs. Cobberly were contacted."

The Dean turned angrily. "What are you accusing me of, kidnapping?"

Tristan continued, unperturbed by the interruption. "He didn't even flinch at the sound of you apparating. Plus, he has seemed very uncomfortable with me talking about magic, unlike Miss Thompson, who still seems a bit clueless."

Miss Thompson turned on Tristan angrily.

He grimaced. "Sorry, Miss Thompson."

Just then Mr. and Mrs. Cobberly drew their wands and shouted, "stupefy" as the Dean dove out of the open office door.

Tristan darted into the hallway after him and managed to get close enough to him to grab the cuff of his sleeve as he disapparated.

Tristan immediately felt an odd sensation. He felt as if he was being distorted and pulled towards a center that was not his own. He lost all the air in his lungs and his heart and brain burned inside of him. And just as suddenly as it all began, it was over. Tristan was sprawled on the floor inside the doorway of a dark house. He screamed in pain as he held out his arms and saw thin lines of skin missing. Blood soaked his shirt. The Dean was also in a bad state. He lay on his side cradling his face. There was blood dripping from his hands. Tristan assumed that something about his unexpected presence had caused the Dean's apparition to backfire and harm them both.

"Dormon, is that you?" A gruff voice called out.

"Let me go!" A voice cried out in fear.

The sound of that voice erased all of the pain from Tristan's mind. He stood and stumbled his way forward. He was sure that he had lesions on his legs as well.

"Please! My parents have money! They can pay you! Please let me go!" The girl was wailing.

Tristan hurriedly followed the sound of the girl's voice.

"Shut up, ye!" The gruff voice shouted.

A loud smack could be heard and the girl's voice fell silent.

Tristan began seething with rage. He felt the anger burning inside him, willing him forward, and showing him what to do. He held his hands out in front of him and his palms glowed like embers. The fire went from orange, to blue, to black. The flames inside of him guided him the rest of the way to his fallen friend.

Before he stepped into the room, he could sense the presence of a large man.

"Dormon? Is that you?" Talk to me, mate." The gruff voice called out. "I got the girl, just like we were hired to do."

Tristan stepped into the doorway and saw a long wand aimed at his chest.

"A child?" The gruff voice cackled; however, his laughter was cut short.

"What's that in your hand, boy?" He asked nervously. "Oi! Answer me! Avada Ka-"

Too slow. The black flame leapt from Tristan's left hand onto the wand which instantly dissolve it into mist. The gruff voiced man held on a bit too long and the flame singed through his fingers. He screamed holding his wand hand in agony. Tristan moved almost as if it wasn't of his own accord. He held up his right hand and the black flame within it grew from the size of his fist to the size of a balloon. He stood over the cowering figure that was trembling in fear and utter agony.

He wanted to hurt the man for what he did to his friend. He had that power. He could punish him. A faint voice in his head was imploring him to do it.

"Tristan?"

He started, and the black flame vanished from his hand. A tear ran down his cheek as he turned to face Cliona. She was tied to a chair in the corner, and he hurried to free her bonds. When he had finished he helped her to her feet. She was wobbly but she could stand. Tristan could barely make out a large bruise underneath her right eye. He could feel his temper rising but he ignored the temptation to seek retribution.

"Tristan! You're covered in blood!" Cliona shouted.

"Small mishap." He smiled. "Speaking of which, we're going to have to try this again."

"Try what?" she asked inquisitively.

"I'm going to try to apparate us both back to your house."

"Shouldn't we go outside first, so we can figure out where this place is? How else are the wizarding police supposed to find them?"

"No, we have to go while we can. No telling how many more people are connecting with these two." Tristan replied.

"That's true." She agreed.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, anything" Cliona confirmed.

"Hold onto my arm tightly and think of your kitchen. I don't want to screw this up again, because it's quite painful."

Tristan closed his eyes. He shut out the cries of the man with gruff voice and the steady thundering of distant footsteps getting closer and closer to the room where they stood. He pictured the Cobberly home, with its oval shaped kitchen and lime green decorum. He took in deep breaths and willed himself to calm down. He heard the first voice as it approached the doorway.

"He's in here! Make sure the girl is still with him." the voice shouted.

Tristan could see the silver utensils that floated along on the ceiling, waiting to be summoned for use. He could see the small oak table the comfortably fit the family of three.

"Hey, who is that?" a voice yelled.

CRACK! Tristan felt the familiar sensation of getting pulled down within himself, squeezed into an infinitesimal mass, and then expanded again into his normal form. This time he land with grace onto the Cobberly's kitchen floor. He turned anxiously to make sure that Cliona had survived the apparition in one piece.

She smiled. "I'm home!"

"Ahhhhhhhhh!"

Tristan and Cliona started as they turned to see her mother sitting at the kitchen table in tears.

At the sound of her scream, two aurors ran into the room with wands drawn.

Mrs. Cobberly jumped to her feet and was across the room hugging her daughter. She couldn't speak, she could only sob, drenching her daughter's shirt with tears of relief.

The aurors pulled Tristan to the side.

"Whose blood is that and where did you come from?" the wider of the two aurors unceremoniously demanded.

"It's mine. I had an accident trying to hold onto the dean while he was apparating." Tristan explained.

"Nice try, but I don't see a single scratch on you!" the officer scoffed.

Tristan looked down to see that his wounds had healed. In his excitement in finding his friend he hadn't even noticed.

"Officer, he saved me!" Cliona chimed in. "He's a hero."

"How?" the officer asked.

"Cunning and guile," Mrs. Cobberly replied. "Officers thank you so much for all you've done to assist me in this matter. Could you alert my husband that our daughter has returned?" She asked in her nicest voice.

"But I still have more questions!" the officer shot back.

"I'm sure these questions can be answered later, after my husband knows that our daughter is safe. He's absolutely stricken with grief." Mrs. Cobberly explained.

The aurors nodded, and with two separate cracks, they were gone.

When the officers had gone, Mrs. Cobberly rounded on Tristan. "You're a wizard!"

"Yes, mom and you can't tell anyone except dad! He doesn't want to go away to Hogwarts."

"But Hogwarts is a great school! Why would you not want to go there?" Mrs. Cobberly asked confused. "We would be thrilled to have Cliona go there, and I'm sure your parents would be proud, as well."

Cliona answered again before Tristan could respond. "I'm sorry that you were not thrilled at me being a squib."

Mrs. Cobberly bowed her head in sadness.

Cliona continued, "But Tristan is different, he doesn't want to go to a wizarding school because he knows that wizards are biased and they would hate him solely based upon his surname."

"Honey, it can't be that bad."

"My name is Tristan Bellwether. My father was Martin Bellwether." Tristan announced.

Mrs. Cobberly almost fainted, and then grabbed a seat. She looked up at Tristan. "If that's true, than Hogwarts is the last place you want to go. You have my word, I won't tell your secret."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cobberly."

"No. Thank you, Tristan. You saved my only child. Now, you should get out of here before scores of more Aurors come."

Tristan nodded and made his way back home.

 **CHAPTER 4: FUDGE'S DECLARATION**

The next couple days Tristan didn't see much of Cliona. Her parents were being very protective of her and were not even allowing her to go back to her lessons. Tristan found that he didn't know what to do with himself with all time he had to himself. He hadn't seen Leally at all these past few week, and he was beginning to worry about him. Perhaps he had gotten in trouble with the law. The more he thought about it, the more he hated that Leally had left without telling him. He tried going to his Kung Fu lessons, but due to his difficulty focusing, magic would ooze its way out of him without him being able to control it. He turned a pair of shoes into a porcupine and accidently sent small flames out whenever he would hit the punching bags. He figured it was best that he stayed home. He spent more and more time with Bonnie and grew quite fond of her attempts to make him laugh.

On the fourth day after the incident with Cliona, Tristan sat in the kitchen watching a movie Blimpy had found at a muggle artifacts shop down in Diagon Alley. The movie was called "Ferris Beuller's Day Off." He was nearly finished with the video, and thinking to himself, "do Americans really dance and sing in the streets?" when a thundering booms rattled the front door.

Startled, Tristan jumped to his feet prepared to defend himself, if he must. Bimpy rushed to the door.

"Stay back, Tristan." She warned. She approached the sturdy oak door, waved her hands, and the door opened.

Four men stood in the open doorway with fierce expressions on their faces. There was a rumbling amongst the men. The man in front, wore a long black travelling cloak, pointed purple boots, and a lime green bowler hat. He seemed like a man of great importance, and he looked at Bimpy as if she were less than him.

"My name is Cornelius Fudge, and I am the Minister of Magic," he said.

Bimpy looked horrified. "Minister! Yes of course!" Blimpy bowed low. "What brings you out here, sir?"

"I've come to talk to the boy," Cornelius barked. "Where is he?"

"Sir?"

"The boy. The child of Martin Bellwether. We know he's alive. A wizard was admitted into St. Mungo's last week, screaming and raving about a boy with gray hair and an ability to burn with black flames." Cornelius turned and spoke loudly to the empty room as he walked around the foyer. "The burns on Hinkletone's hand was so severe that it had to be amputated.

Tristan, who had been hiding on the other side of the wall leading to the foyer, covered his mouth in horror. Had he really produced fire hot enough to cause damage that even a healer couldn't fix?

Mr. Fudge continued, "Fiend fire. There are very few wizards who have ever been able to control fiend fire, wouldn't you say Moody?"

Tristan heard a loud clogging step as it crossed the threshold into his home. He risked a glance into the foyer again and saw a tall man with heavy looking wooden leg. The man had a gashed nose that had seen better days and an eye that whizzed here and there, even peering into the back of his skull. His eye darted towards the wall as Tristan hid himself again.

"Minister? He's over there." Moody barked.

"Over where?" Fudge replied confused.

"Behind the wall."

Tristan panicked and didn't know whether he should run or wait to see what the men wanted. He decided that he could not leave Bimpy alone with these men. He swallowed hard, and revealed himself.

"Tristan, no!" shouted Bimpy. "Leave. They have no right to question you."

"Silence." Fudge ordered. "I wish to talk with the boy."

"You're going to take him away! You want to use him like you used his father!" Bimpy screamed at Fudge, but he showed little interest in her words.

Tristan looked up at Fudge and then the man with the wild eye. Both of his eyes were focused steadfastly on Tristan, and his hand was in his traveling cloak.

"Minister. Look at his hair. It's starting already, just like his father." Barked Moody.

"We don't know it's his son, Alistair." The Minister retorted.

A third man spoke suddenly. He had a gruff, unkind voice. "Don't we? Graying hair? The use of uncontrollable dark magic? Minister, without a doubt, that is Martin Bellwether's son. He looks just like him."

"What is your name, boy?" Fudge asked.

Tristan hesitated and then answered. "Tristan-"

"No! Tell them nothing!" Bimpy interjected.

He knew that there was no longer any point of secrecy because they were already convinced of who he was regardless of his answer. "Tristan Bellwether."

Though they no doubt expected confirmation of their suspicions, they still had expressions of shock when Tristan spoke true.

"Minister, if I might add-"

"No, Barty, you may not. You are no longer an auror. Your advice has lead us to this place, but I think that's enough for now."

The minister softened his demeanor. "Tristan, you'll be coming with us. We have questions to ask you."

"I don't want to go." Tristan answered.

"Just grab him so we can leave." The fourth man, who had seemed disinterested till this moment, spoke in the long drawling voice of one who is bored. Despite his calm demeanor, he reminded Tristan of a lion waiting to pounce.

At that moment, several more wizards walked through the front doorway with their wands drawn.

Bimpy moved in front of Tristan with her arms raised. Tristan could tell that she was preparing to use any magic possible to defend him, but he knew that she would be no match for a room full of aurors. He rushed, in front of her.

"Fine," he spoke resigned. "I'll go with you." He directed his question towards Mr. Fudge. "Where are we going?"

"Azkaban! Where you belong, boy!" shouted Alistair. He pounded his walking stick empathically against the hardwood flooring. "We have it on good authority that you attacked two wizards leaving them severely injured."

"They kidnapped my friend!" he shouted in his defense.

"We have two eyewitnesses that say you provoked a fight with them over a perceived transgression." Scrimgeour shot back. "They described a child of Hogwarts age with an ability to wield a curse so dark, than in half the world it's an unforgivable curse. Thought you would bend the rules, did you?"

"No! Cliona needed me. She can tell you!"

"Why would we believe the word of a death eater's child?" growled Alistair.

Several things happened at once; Alistair, who was in a rage reached for Tristan, Tristan who was very much on edge, unintentionally found that his hands were alight in small blue flames, and a large, invisible barrier materialized in front of him. Alistair stubbed his fingers on the barrier as he swore loudly.

Tiny blue flames danced up and down his arm and fed themselves into the swelling flames growing in his outstretched palms.

Suddenly a spell hit the barrier causing it to fall away with a blast that sent Tristan and Bimpy flying backwards and distinguishing Tristan's flames. Scrimgeour, who had blasted away the shield, cast his eyes down upon Tristan. His wand was aimed between his eyes. Tristan noticed that there were at least a dozen more wand tips pointed at him.

He climbed to his feet, anger boiling inside of him. He wanted to hurt them. All of them. He could feel his level headed thoughts fading away, and he turned to face Scrimgeour and anyone else ready to jump into the fray.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A new voice yelled.

A man with long hair draped down his shoulders stormed through the front door, pushing the aurors aside. His shiny gray cloak billowed behind him as he rushed forward to stand between Tristan and the half dozen wands aimed at him.

"Have you lost your minds?! This is a child!" he yelled angrily. He turned to Fudge. "Is this your idea of justice? Locking up a child? This child belongs at Hogwarts!" His voice echoed louder still. "By some mistake of the Ministry, he has been charged for protecting a squib girl from two of your former aurors! Or did you forget that?" the tall man was scanning the eyes of every auror in the room that wasn't too ashamed to look at him.

Tristan, who was slipping into a blind rage, suddenly came to his senses and turned to check on Blimpy who had been knocked to the floor. His worries were misplaced. She had barely missed a beat, her arms were spread, and Tristan could tell she was summoning some deeper, ancient magic. He had seen her do this only once before, when a wizard tried forcing his way into what he thought was an abandoned house.

The room fell into silence. The Minister stepped forward speaking in a restrained tone. "Lucius, this child has evil inside him. We have to try- If we allow him to develop, he could be even stronger than his father- Who knows, he could become another… another _you-know-who."_

"Minister, I assure you that the Dark Lord is dead," Lucius glanced back at Tristan, "and so is his father."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you Malfoy. You were loyal to both of them." Chided Alistair.

Scrimgeour also spoke up, though he seemed as if he had gone back to being bored. "Minister, it appears that he hasn't got any parents. Wizards are required to be raised by humans. By some perverse twist of fate, he is being raised by a house elf who's loyal purely because she is a slave. " Scrimgeour chuckled under his breath.

"She's not a slave!" Tristan spat out. "You wizards think you own the world because you have wands! You're nothing but-"

"Quiet boy!" Malfoy warned.

Scrimgeour met Tristan's eyes and did not look away. It made Tristan very uncomfortable. He envisioned a wild beast ready to pounce.

Fudge addressed Malfoy. He leaned in closely so that the others couldn't hear. "He belongs in a muggle orphanage. Regardless of what we decide, he can't stay here. Not without a human guardian. It is best if he comes with us."

"Are you blind, Fudge? Alistair screamed. Look at his hair! The gray hair is spreading much faster than it did with his father. The time to act is now."

"I assure you Alistair, I have the best interest of Ministry at heart. It is settled, the boy will come with us and await further instruction from the Wizengamot." Fudge announced.

"No!" screamed Blimpy. "You can't take my boy."

Lucius once again raised his hands as a calming gesture. "Minister, may I have a moment alone with the boy?"

"Of course."

Lucius grabbed Tristan not so gently by the arm and dragged him down the long hallway till he reached a door. Lucius muttered under his breath and the door opened to reveal a hidden staircase.

"How did you know?" Tristan asked.

Lucius didn't reply. He continued dragging Tristan along, up the stairs, down another hallway, and into Tristan's room.

"Pack your things."

"Why, I'm sure they'll just take them away from me."

Lucius did not respond, he pulled a wand from the cane he carried in right hand and waved it around slowly while muttering a spell under his breath. Random objects around the room flew into Tristan's school bag, which was lying open on the floor.

Tristan reluctantly picked up the bag. He then walked over to his bed and pulled a small picture of 4 people in it and packed it away in his bag.

"Is that everything?" Lucius asked.

"No, I don't think I'll have be-"

Tristan's words were cut off as Lucius tightly gripped his shoulder. Tristan felt the familiar pulling sensation coming from the center of his being, and he knew that it would be a long time before he saw Bimpy again. His room distorted and his vision turned from gray to black and all that was left was a spark in his mind, the spark that was him. And then, as suddenly as it disappeared, it all began again.

Lucius and Tristan arrived in the middle of a crowded village with a loud crack that rattled his own ears. He hated that this was the first sound one heard after apparition. It was early evening and crowds of people on the old cobblestone streets were shuffling into restaurants and pubs. Not one person turned around to acknowledge their presence. _Perhaps they were wizards,_ Tristan thought.

Lucius again grabbed him by his shoulder, and rushed him along. "Come on, boy. We mustn't delay. There is someone I need you to see."

Tristan shrugged Lucius's hand off his shoulder defensively. "Sorry, Sir. I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know who you are!"

"Don't know who I am?" Lucius asked incredulously. "Did that elf never tell you about me?"

Tristan stared back at him angrily but did not reply.

Lucius appeared as if he was searching for more delicate words. He cleared his throat. "I am Lucius Malfoy. I knew your father." He paused and his eyebrows tensed as if he was fighting back emotion. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and continued. "I owe your father more than my life. That is why I am taking you somewhere safe, where the Ministry won't be able to lay a hand on you."

Tristan searched Malfoy's face and suddenly he recognized him. This was the young boy in the picture with his father. Tristan understood for the first time how severe his circumstances were. He thought back to his home, and how many wizards had been sent to bring him in. He shuddered to himself.

"Come with me." Urged Mr. Malfoy.

Tristan nodded and followed closely behind him, keeping pace with Lucius as they passed through the crowd with little to no resistance. At the sight of Lucius, the crowds parted to let him through. He walked with the arrogant swagger of someone with money and power. The people he passed either looked at him with fear or respect.

They were half of the way down the street, when a small feeble voice called after them. "Nnn-mm-mister Malfoy. Nnnn-w-what are you d-d-doing here?"

Malfoy sneered and rounded on the man. "Surely, my business is my own and I need not explain it to you, Quirrell." Malfoy spat.

The man, Quirrell, peered at Tristan inquisitively, but then thought better of questioning Lucius further. He backed away in fright and disappeared into an old creepy looking pub with a low hanging sign that read, _The Hog's Head._

Mr. Malfoy continued to walk, this time at a faster pace and Tristan nearly had to run to keep up with him. They made the rest of their way down the street, which rounded and lead up a steep hill. Tristan was gasping for breath when what he saw next took the rest of his breath away.

There was an enormous castle which looked to be more than a thousand years old. There were spires, towers, and large stone pillars. The castle grounds were beautiful as well, there were trees that looked as if they were ancient and barely in view were the banks of a gigantic lake. Tristan was unaware that he had stopped walking. He was staring in utter bewilderment. Mr. Malfoy was more than 40 paces ahead of him and had not noticed Tristan lingering at the crest of the hill. Tristan thought for a second of running away. As strong as the idea was, he knew that Mr. Malfoy had quite possibly saved him from a miserable fate had he been arrested by the Ministry. He also saved Bimpy, because she would not have let them take him while she still stood matriarch of Bellwether Manor.

Tristan sighed as he walked up to the large iron gates that lay open. He could now see Malfoy approaching the front doors of the castle. He had a bad feeling about this castle, as beautiful as it was, and he whispered words of encouragement to himself.

Before he could commit to following the path to the castle doors he felt a firm hand grab hold of his backpack. He whirled around to find that there was no one there. The invisible hand grabbed a tighter hold upon his backpack and began yanking him backwards at an increasing speed. His shoes dragged against the paved footpath as he was tugged towards the open castle doors. He tried digging in his heals, but the path was much too solid and smooth for him to gain any traction. He thought about removing his bag, but as he was likely an outlaw, these were the last of his possessions, and he didn't want to give them up without a fight. He had resigned to remove his bag, when the tugging ceased and he was standing face to face with Mr. Malfoy. Who had once again drawn his wand, but was now putting it away.

Tristan gazed up at him with startled anger, but Mr. Malfoy grabbed him by his shoulder and turned him around without speaking.

Tristan audibly gasped. The castle was even more majestic on the inside. There were stairways lined with portraits, giant suits of armor, and ornate hanging tapestries. A slimy looking man with balding hair approached them at a run. He had a malicious look in his eyes when he saw Tristan and he made to approach closer, but he had forgotten about Mr. Malfoy.

"Students is supposed to be in the great hall. And why is ye dressed like a muggle?" sneered the man.

"Excuse us, Filch, I do not have time for what I'm sure would be an interesting lecture on following rules. We need to speak with the headmaster, where is he?" said Mr. Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir!" Filch bowed low. "They're all in the great hall. It's dinnertime, you see."

Mr. Malfoy started to walk off, but stopped, and remembered to grab Tristan by his shoulder. He walked Tristan through the castle and to a pair of large wooden doors that were closed. Tristan could hear the muffled voices of children laughing gleefully as their metallic knives, forks, and spoons, clinked on porcelain plates.

Mr. Malfoy addressed Tristan, at last. "Listen to me, if anyone aside from the headmaster questions you, do not say anything. Let me do the talking. Do you understand?"

Tristan nodded.

Mr. Malfoy took that as his que to push through the heavy doors and Tristan followed at his heels. Tristan was surprised to see how great this hall was. There were four long tables that stretched nearly the length of the hall, each lined with students of varying ages. All of their eyes were on Tristan. The ceiling seemed as if it was not there, and where there should have been a roof, Tristan saw clouds and a ray of sunlight peeking through. He continued to follow Mr. Malfoy till they arrived at the other end of the hall at a table that sat above the others, elevated like a long podium. Several older wizards sat at the table looking curiously at Tristan and Mr. Malfoy.

"Father?" shouted a voice from one of the tables.

Mr. Malfoy did not turn to acknowledge the voice. Instead he directed his attention to an older wizard with long gray hair that draped down his shoulders and a long full beard. The wizard had sparkling blue, eyes that gave off the semblance of kindness and wisdom. He peered at Tristan through a pair of half-moon spectacles that sat on his crooked nose.

"Professor Dumbledore," began Lucius.

The elder wizard nodded but when he looked at Lucius, his eyes showed signs of cautiousness and distrust. Tristan knew that the two must have been on bad terms with one another.

"Ugh, well you see… I submit to you that this was a student that was missed. He did not receive a letter- an offer for a place at the school, which he is deserved."

A stern looking witch with tight lips, brown hair, and an authoritative demeanor, addressed Mr. Malfoy with incredulity as she glanced down at him through the frames of her thin glasses. "Our system is never wrong. If he were a wizard, he would have received a letter. All wizards have the trace."

"I assure you that he is a wizard, Minerva. It is his blood right." Replied Mr. Malfoy.

"What proof do you have of his magical ability?" asked Minerva.

Tristan felt awkward having to stand there and hear them argue his worth in front of an entire hall filled with students that he didn't know. What was worse was that Dumbledore was studying him, and it was giving Tristan the uncomfortable feeling that he could read minds. Tristan whispered a spell of calming to himself that Bimpy had once taught him to control his temper. He immediately felt the pressure of Dumbledore's gaze subside, and Dumbledore stared at him in awe.

"His father was a wizard, and I know that he would not give birth to a-.

a squib." Mr. Malfoy insisted.

"Lucius, perhaps you should allow the boy to introduce himself before we continue to talk about him as if he isn't present with us." Dumbledore said with polite authority.

Every eye in the room was on Tristan.

"Well," Dumbledore continued, "Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

Tristan's mouth was dry. He knew that he could not lie because his secret was already out. He drew in a long breath and spoke in voice that was barely louder than a whisper.

"My name is Tristan, Tristan Bellwether… My father was Martin Bellwether."

Gasps and shouts of disapproval came from across the room from the students.

"His father killed my mother!" yelled the voice of an angry boy.

Tristan did not turn to look at him out of shame.

"His dad killed both my father and my uncle!" yelled another voice, this time one of a young girl.

Even some of those at the teacher's table looked down on him with disapproval.

Tristan heard the doors of the great hall swing open again and there was a marching of footsteps. He glanced over his shoulder and saw, Fudge making his way down the middle isle between the tables with Scrimgeour and a large, bald, black wizard at his heels.

Tristan began to fight back the urge to panic. "Mr. Malfoy, sir. I would like very much to leave here now. I don't need to attend this school. I was happy the way things were. With the ugh… muggles, as you call them. I'll be taking my leave now." Tristan turned to run but Mr. Malfoy grabbed him by the arm. Not meaning to do so, the sleeve of Tristan's jacked erupted in small blue flames. Mr. Malfoy quickly drew his hand back and the flames subsided. Tristan spun on his heals but before he could sprint towards the doors to leave, he heard a large booming voice.

"Silence!"

He turned to see that Dumbledore had his wand pointed at his own throat.

Fudge approached the teacher's table. He nodded toward Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, this boy incapacitated two former aurors. We have reason to believe that he is dangerous, and we're here to take him with us for questioning."

Dumbledore considered him for a moment, and when he spoke, his words were measured with thoughtfulness. "Tristan is our newest student here at Hogwarts. As such, I will seeing to this matter. Any further communication about this case will come through me."

Mr. Malfoy let out a sigh of relief.

Fudge's face went pale. He made to argue with Dumbledore, but thought better of it.

Scrimgeour was outraged, as were many of the students. Scrimgeour growled something into Fudge's ear, but Fudge shook his head. Both Scrimgeour and the black wizard walked out of the great hall leaving Fudge alone with the teachers. As Scrimgeour pulled the doors open to the great hall, Tristan could see several of the aurors from earlier standing at the ready outside.

"Dumbledore, I urge you to think of your career. Think of your position on the Wizengamot. Is it really worth it for the spawn of Bellwether? When the parents hear about this, there will be an uproar." Fudge insisted.

"Hogwarts is a home for any student who wishes to learn." Dumbledore replied. "Now, if you excuse me, Minister, there is a matter of a sorting that we need to attend to." He turned to one of his fellow professors. "Professor McGonagall can you bring me the sorting hat, I will see to the Minister, in case he has… other matters he wishes to discuss with me."

"Of course." Professor McGonagall hurried out of the great hall.

"He doesn't even have a wand, Dumbledore, how is he going to fit in here?" asked Fudge.

Mr. Malfoy interjected. "I will see to his supplies, Minister." He approached Tristan and pulled him off to the side. He leaned closely to Tristan so that the others couldn't hear him. "Minerva is bringing back something called a sorting hat. It will place you into one of four houses. He pointed to the table that looked like it was in near mutiny; that's Ravenclaw, he then pointed to the next table of students and identified them as Gryffindors, the next as Hufflepuffs, and then the final table as Slytherins. Listen closely, you will not get a fair shake at this school unless you are in Slytherin House. Remember that. No matter what that hat tells you, you go to Slytherin, you hear me? They are the only students that will protect you."

Tristan nodded.

Professor McGonagall came back into the great hall carrying an old musty looking hat. She stood in front of the teachers table, pointed her wand, spoke a spell, and a chair materialized on the spot.

"Have a seat, Tristan." She said.

The students fell silent. Tristan nervously sat onto the large wooden chair. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as Professor McGonagall placed the hat upon his head. The hat was so large that it fell down over his eyes.

"Ahh, what a wonderful mind we have here!"

Tristan started at the sound of the soft, jovial voice echoing inside his thoughts. He tried his hardest to shut out the voice but it only grew louder and surer of itself.

"Yes. You have the mind of a Ravenclaw. You would be a great Ravenclaw, possibly the greatest to ever pass through that house! It is all right here in your mind." The hat proclaimed.

"No!" Tristan shot back. "I am a Slytherin. That is where I belong."

"Slytherin? I don't see an ounce of Slytherin in you. Perhaps a hint of Gryffindor but even that would be unwise. Bravery isn't everything. You sir are a Ravenclaw."

"No! I am a Slytherin!" Tristan confirmed. It was at this moment that he felt another presence within his thoughts.

"You have a brilliant mind that could change all of wizarding kind if you only cultivated it. Slytherin will not do that for you. My boy, the choice is surely Ravenclaw." The hat insisted.

"Get out of my head."

"But Tristan-"

"Get out of my head. Get out of my head. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Tristan bellowed within his own mind, trying desperately not to shout out loud.

The hat fell limply on his head as steam emitted from it. A moment later, Professor McGonagall was pulling the limp hat from Tristan's head and stared at it confused.

Tristan noticed that Professor Dumbledore was not taking his eyes off him. It made him uneasy.

Fudge broke the silence. "There you have it headmaster, he does not belong at-"

Fudge was interrupted by the strange sight of the limp hat sparking back to life in the hands of a startled Professor McGonagall. A long mouth opened along the brim of the hat and bellowed, "SLYTHERIN!"


	2. Chapter 5-6

**THE TREMENDOUS TALE OF TRISTAN BELlWETHER**

 **Wednesday, June 19, 1996**

"Hey! Wake up, Tristan!" A voice cried out from the murky shallows of the waking world.

He had been dreaming about lying in a patch of daises next to Leally. They were laughing and talking about all the things that they had seen since they had last spoken; Cliona was by his side as well. He missed those days, well Cliona had never met Leally, but he missed the carefree days before he had found out that he, like his father before him, would be required to join the ranks of the other magical children of Britain and go to Hogwarts.

"Get up, bro! There's crazy news in _The Morning Herald_!" Marco exclaimed with horror.

Tristan groggily opened one eye to peer down his bed to where Marco was now sitting. Tristan hoisted himself up into sitting positon and let out a loud yawn.

"What time is it?" He asked oblivious to Marco's frantic behavior.

"Time? The way things are going, we won't have much of that left!" Marco answered.

Frustrated by Marco's cryptic behavior, Tristan threw his pillow at him.

"Spit it out already, mate. What happened?"

"Voldemort is back! He was spotted last night." Marco explained.

"For real this time?"

"Yeah, it seems so." Marco replied.

Tristan was fully awake now and reached over to snatch the newspaper from Marco's grasp. Sure enough the headline read, _The Dark Lord's Return: Battle of the Ministry of Magic_. He glanced over the article seeing the same familiar names: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his forearm where he had been branded with the dark mark nearly a year prior. However, to his and Draco's astonishment, the mark had vanished days later and never appeared again. Tristan hadn't told any of his friends about this because he knew what they would think of him.

"I guess you'll be heading back to England, right?" Marco looked concerned. "I don't suppose you'll be trying to confront him, will you?"

"No, it will have to wait. I'm not leaving until we find that muggle serial killer. We have to figure out how he's disarming his victims. Many more innocent witches and wizards will die if we don't." He said reassuring Marco.

Tristan ran his hands through his hair. Nearly all of it was gray now. He thought to himself in silence for a few moments, deliberating on his next course of action.

 **Chapter 5: The Enemy of Ravenclaw**

Tristan lay in his four poster bed staring at the ceiling through the pillars. Well it was not his bed, but the bed that was assigned to him by his Head of House, Professor Snape. A tall, thin man with greasy black hair, severe eyes, and a hooked nose. After placement in Slytherin House, there was frenzy in the Great Hall. The Slytherins didn't know whether to cheer or grimace at the fact that he was the son of an infamous "mass murderer." Many at the Slytherin table looked on in fear while students at other tables shouted their disapproval that he was even allowed to stay at the school.

Fudge was extremely upset to see that a house had been chosen for Tristan. He even threatened to arrest Tristan regardless, but Dumbledore was firm with him and ordered that Professor Snape take Tristan away to his dormitory while he saw to the matter with Fudge. Snape was a stern person even more than Mr. Malfoy, and he grabbed Tristan by the back of his collar and rushed him out of the Great Hall. They passed a group of aurors that were standing just outside the doors, and they peered down at Tristan with hatred in their eyes. Snape led him onward down several dark corridors adorned with portraits with subjects that followed him suspiciously with their eyes. At one point, he saw a small wizard run into the adjacent painting and whisper into the ear of a princess, "It's him! The son of the dragon!" They finally turned and went down a set of stone steps which led down to what seemed to be a dungeon. There was a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. Snape spoke the words, "reptilian" and a stone door concealed in the wall opened, revealing a long low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains.

The room had the feel of a sunken ship and water could be heard splashing against the outer walls of the castle. How the water never eroded those stone walls was anyone's guess. The boys' dormitories were down a set of steps at the back end of the common room. Snape told him that the dorms were at capacity at the moment, so he escorted Tristan to a quaint sized empty room which he explained was normally used for storage. With a wave of his wand, an ancient four poster bed appeared with emerald green curtains wrapped around it. Professor Snape waved his wand again and a heavy wooden dresser appeared by it.

"Breakfast is at 8 in the morning. You're first class will be History of Magic. Follow the other first years. Be _on time_. Tardiness is not accepted at Hogwarts." He spoke plainly and with little emotion.

"But sir, I haven't got any books, or you know, anything." Tristan explained.

"Professor Dumbledore will see to it that your required school items are sent to you. As for your books, used ones are kept in their respective classrooms."

Tristan nodded.

"And one more thing, make sure to carry your wand with you at all times, just to be on the safe side." Snape warned.

"I don't have a wand, Professor."

Snape's eyes went wide in surprise.

"Well then, I would see to that immediately." He replied.

He left, closing the door behind him. Tristan remained there in the storage room with the dull, light of a small lantern flickering endlessly. He lay there wishing he could be at home in his own bed, and then the thought occurred to him. Why couldn't he just apparate back home. He would send a letter to the headmaster afterwards and let him know that he did not feel as if Hogwarts would be a good fit for him. He closed his eyes and focused on the flower garden in front of Bellwether Manor. He focused all of his energy, but immediately felt something different than he had ever felt before. He felt as if he were caught in some sort of large spider web. He tried to compress himself through space and time, but instead he felt the webbing grow tighter. There was a jolt of energy that sparked in his head as if he had been struck by lightning. He screamed in pain as he fell onto the cold, hard stone floor. He lay there unable to move as blood dripped from his nostrils. Eventually, he fell asleep and drifted into uneasy dreams of past schools.

He awoke the next morning in a state of panic, forgetting where he was or why he was there. It took a minute for him to remember that he was taken away to a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his own protection. He felt blood on his upper lip and reached into the bag he had brought for something to clean his face with. Finding nothing, he resolved to use his green bed sheet.

Presently, he had no idea where the bathrooms were, how to get to the Great Hall for breakfast, or what classes he was to attend. He made his way to the common room, which was up a staircase and down the hallway. There were already students preparing to head for breakfast. They looked proper smart in their Hogwarts uniforms. Tristan was left wearing what he had on from yesterday. In his hurry to leave, he had neglected to pack a change of clothes.

Tristan made up his mind that he would follow the students who were leaving for breakfast, but then he thought that he'd better make sure that's where they were headed, so he asked a girl with long blonde hair if she was indeed on her way to breakfast soon and if he might tag along. Her cheeks turned rosy red and she backed away from him without responding.

"I'm not dangerous, you know!" He called after her angrily.

"You know if you tell people you aren't, they'll start thinking that you are." A boy said matter-of-factly behind Tristan's back.

Tristan turned to see a clean cut black boy with a medium build, short hair, and the swagger of a child that grew up around money. He flashed a grin.

"I'm Blaise. Blaise Zabini." He didn't extend his hand to shake Tristan's.

"Tristan. Tristan Bell–"

"I know who you are! Well of course… We all do! We know what your father's famous for." Blaise exclaimed much too loudly.

"It's better than what your mother's known for. Well, at least that's what my father says." A voice shouted from across the common room.

A blonde boy stormed forward with two rather large boys on either side of him. He approached Blaise, getting inches away from his face.

Blaise had his fists clinched tightly, and he seemed to be struggling to control the urge to punch the blonde boy.

"It's better than having a cowardly reject, Death Eater as a father. He's supposed to 'eat death,' not be afraid of it." Blaise replied through gritted teeth.

The blonde boy motioned to the two larger boys, and they grabbed Blaise by his arms before he could draw his wand.

"You're a coward too, Draco! Fight your own battles!" Blaise spit out.

Draco punched him in the stomach and Blaise gasped for air.

"How many surnames have you had, Blaise? I bet you wish one of them was Malfoy so you could at least have a father that would stick around."

Blaise struggled fiercely against the hold of the two large boys, but his strength was not enough. Draco hit him in the stomach again, and the large boys released him as he fell to the floor holding his stomach.

Draco turned to Tristan, eyeing him curiously. Up close, Tristan thought the boy looked familiar.

"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy, and this is Crabbe and Goyle." He pointed to the large boys who were now beside him again. "You shouldn't have to navigate this school on your own, I can help you there." He reached out a hand to Tristan.

Ah ha. This must be Mr. Malfoy's son. They looked very much alike. Tristan knew that this was precisely the type of person he hated, but he also didn't want to have an enemy in his own house. He grasped Draco's hand and shook it.

"We're headed up for breakfast, if you want to come along." Draco offered.

"Yeah, alright." Tristan answered.

"See the thing is this…"

They were sitting at the long Slytherin table and many of the other Slytherins seemed surprised that Draco was talking to him. They had gone out of their way to space themselves at a comfortable distance from Tristan.

Draco was speaking to him, but his eyes were peering up at the cloudless sky that could be seen via the ceiling of the Great Hall.

"…the thing is, you and I are destined to be friends. You're dad and my dad were best mates when they were at Hogwarts."

Tristan nearly spit out his pumpkin juice. He was kicking himself for not knowing who Mr. Malfoy was before yesterday and why he was so insistent on helping him.

"It gets better than that," Draco continued. "Your dad was never defeated, you know. He was killed saving my mother's life they day before I was born. My dad has told me the story loads of times! He killed twenty-one aurors just to protect me. Can you believe that?! Twenty-one!"

Tristan knew his father was killed during a battle, but he had never heard the circumstances. He didn't know whether to be proud of his father or angry that he had to step in to protect Mrs. Malfoy because Mr. Malfoy was too weak to do so himself.

"I've never heard any of this." Tristan replied, his agitation starting to rise.

"Well, get this… My mother named me after your dad. It's well known that he had a talent for controlling fire. At Hogwarts he was known as 'Vir Draco' or 'Man-Dragon' but his mates just called him Draco."

Tristan nodded politely, but he was feeling very sick with the knowledge that Draco knew more about his father than he did. Furthermore, Draco carried some version of his father's name, which was more than Tristan could say. His appetite left him and he pushed his half eaten plate away from him.

Other than being an annoying historian, Draco proved to be a reliable guide, and a valuable ally. On his way to History of Magic, a trio of older Ravenclaw boys had prepared to attack him in the hallway but they were thwarted by Crabbe and Goyle at Malfoy's command. This was a huge relief for Tristan, as he had other things to worry about, like his lessons.

His first class, History of Magic, was a boring class taught by, to Tristan's utter bewilderment, a ghost. Professor Binns was so dedicated to education that he continued to teach even after his untimely death. It quite literally gave Tristan the chills.

Slytherin had this lesson with Hufflepuff, and it was quite obvious that the Hufflepuffs were uncomfortable around Tristan. A boy named Ernie Macmillan seemed intrigued by Tristan, however. He stared at his hair for much of the lesson and even attempted to speak to him, but his friend Justin Finch-Fletchly shushed him and pulled him away.

The Slytherins had their next lesson with Gryffindor and this was anything but boring. In fact, it seemed as if there was a bitter rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, particularly between Draco and a boy whom he vaguely recognized named, Harry Potter. Harry seemed to recognize him as well, and did a double take as Tristan walked into the cold classroom.

Potions was located in one of the dungeons of Hogwarts, and it reminded Tristan of his father's laboratory that he had come to know and love. A pang of loneliness hit him and he barely noticed when Draco attempted to step on Harry's foot as he moved down the row of seats. Harry's reflexes were a bit too fast for Draco and he instead put his leg out and Draco nearly tripped but for Tristan steadying him. The redheaded boy next to Harry frowned at Tristan.

"Watch where you're walking Malfoy!" the redhead boy barked at Draco. His fists were clenched.

Crabbe and Goyle, who were not far behind Tristan, rushed forward with their bear-like hands balled into fists.

"I don't take orders from a poor, blood traitor like yourself, Weasley." Draco shouted back.

Ron stood up ready to defend his honor, when Professor Snape swooped in like a bat on a cool autumn evening. His face was that of both a grimace and glee. Tristan had never noticed how mean the man looked before.

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Snape announced coolly.

"But professor, Malfoy started it!" shouted Harry.

"That's another five points from Gryffindor!" Snape replied without directly addressing Harry.

Draco had explained to Tristan earlier that day that each house is awarded points based on performance or they lose points based on bad behavior. For a moment, Tristan hoped that the winning house would get some sort of meaningful prize, but Draco continued on to explain that the house with the most points would win the "House Cup" for that year. How utterly pointless, Tristan thought.

Throughout the remainder of the lesson, Tristan noticed Harry trying not to doze off. Whenever he did, Snape's eyes would lock onto him like an owl onto its prey. The other thing Tristan noticed was that this particular bushy haired girl, with a thin face, and larger than average front teeth would raise her hand on nearly every question posed to the classroom. She raised her hand so much that Professor Snape frequently ignored her and called on Harry instead, or the redhead boy next to him, Ronald Weasley. Nevertheless, the girl continued to shoot her hand up as if it were her arms' natural positioning. Her name was Hermione Granger, and it was clear that the other students had had enough of her weeks prior even though she earned back more than double the points that Harry and Ron lost. When the lesson was over, she quickly gathered up her books without speaking to anyone, and stole away presumable to the great hall for lunch.

"That mudblood thinks she knows everything." Malfoy muttered to Crabbe and Goyle under his breath.

At lunchtime, Tristan saw Hermione only briefly. She was sitting by herself at the Gryffindor table and she was hurriedly stuffing down food. After she finished chugging her drink, she got up and rushed out of the Great Hall.

Tristan was very hungry come lunchtime, because he hardly eaten any breakfast. However, the way that Crabbe and Goyle ate resembled pigs inhaling slop and it nearly made him lose his appetite again. Malfoy was oblivious to them, because he could not stop boasting about his many "accomplishments."

Tristan finished his food earlier than Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, mainly because he wasn't talking excessively or playing with his food, and he told them that he would meet them later for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Are you sure you want to go wandering around on your own?" Draco asked. "My father told me to keep an eye on you."

"I'll be fine," I'm just going to have a look around before our next lesson.

"If you're sure." Draco replied before biting into an enormous turkey leg.

Tristan nodded and walked out of the Great Hall. He was hoping he could catch up to Hermione to ask her a question. That's if he could find her at all, she took off in such a hurry.

He was in luck, he could just see her turning the corner at the end of corridor. He took off at a jog, and had almost reached the end of a corridor, when he felt a pinch at his waste and his legs locked up under him causing him to stumble face first into a suit of armor. The armor clanged loudly as it fell to the floor in pieces around him.

He could hear sniggering but he couldn't maneuver to see who it was. He tried to move his legs but they felt as if they had been cemented together. He pushed his chest off of the ground and turned himself over to see a foot coming down hard upon his abdomen. He winced in pain. Surrounding him were the three boys from earlier.

"You're not that tough are you?" Said the boy who had just stomped on him. "I reckon you thought you could come to Hogwarts and live off your father's reputation." He stomped on Tristan's abdomen again before continuing. "Your dad was a Ravenclaw like us, but he killed his own classmates!" He paused momentarily to compose himself because tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. "He killed my mom. Her name was Christiana Doogle!"

Tristan blocked the stomp this time with his forearm, but the other boys joined in with the stomping and kicking. He had no idea how long the beating lasted but he could feel his consciousness starting to slip as he saw a dark furnace before his eyes. There was a long black carpet with red stick figures drawn on it. He could feel himself walking toward the furnace which was burning hot with black flame. When he got to the furnace, he could see that the fire was not true fire at all. It took the shape of animals, objects, and even people. He saw a particular flame that resembled Leally. Leally reached out for Tristan's hand, and Tristan instinctually reached into the furnace to grasp onto his dear friend. He felt the dark embers on his flesh and they were cool instead of the scorching heat that he'd expected. The fire danced on his palms and he knew that he had to release it unto the world.

"Stop it!" Shouted a girl.

Yes, the world needed to see this fire. See its power.

"I said stop it, or I'll tell Professor Dumbledore!" she shouted again.

The kicking stopped abruptly. One of the boys spit on him before they all ran away, but he did not see which one because his eyes had been closed tightly. He opened them and the girl gasped.

"You're eyes, I don't remember them being so dark!" Hermione said with a shudder.

Tristan was surprised but thankful to see her. He smiled, but she looked alarmed.

"You're missing a tooth, sorry. You should probably go to the hospital wing." She suggested.

"I can't walk," Tristan explained. "They did something to my legs so I couldn't escape."

"But, you're moving your legs now."

She pointed and sure enough, Tristan's right foot was twitching. She reached out a hand to help him to his feet.

"And your eyes are back to normal!" She exclaimed with a shock. "Well, I better be off to the library. You really should go to the hospital wing, you know."

"Wait, can I walk with you?" Tristan asked. "I don't really know where I'm going and I'd at least like to know how to get to the library."

"Well… It's just -"

"You don't want to be seen with me, right?"

Hermione's face went scarlet. She looked at him sheepishly. "I don't have any friends, and I'm afraid I won't be able to make any if -"

Tristan cut her off. "Please, don't finish that sentence. I understand, I just don't want to hear you say it. It's okay."

She looked away ashamed of herself.

"Can you at least tell me how to get to the library?" He asked.

"You're almost there. It's further down this corridor, and the door is on your left." She sighed and then turned to walk away towards the library.

"One more thing!" Tristan remembered his question.

"How come I can't apparate out of here?"

At this Hermione genuinely laughed. "You're much too young to apparate! It's complex magic. Besides, there's no apparating in or out of Hogwarts according to _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Thanks. Oh! And thank you for saving me."

She nodded and headed off down the corridor.

He waited a few moments, as to give her enough space so that they would not be seen together. He then made his way after her on shaky legs. He had no idea how he had managed to gain control of his legs but it was clear the curse hadn't completely lifted. He was walking more like an elderly man in need of a cane.

When he reached the library, he pushed his way in and students turned in alarm when they saw him. It didn't help that he had a busted lip, a swollen eye, and blood stains on his unclean clothes. Feeling himself beginning to lose his balance, he sat down at the nearest table.

It was a long table and there was a girl at the far end who could barely be seen behind a stack of library books sprawled out in front of her. She was so deep into a book that she did not notice him. He was relieved.

One of the books at the table caught his eye. It was called _The Hidden History of Hogwarts_. Trying to be a subtle as possible, he called upon a spell in his mind. It was a simple summoning spell that Bimpy had taught him. He cautiously reached his hand out and slowly the book began to slide across the table towards him. When the book had almost reached him, the girl behind the book screamed in alarm.

"BE QUIET! THIS IS A LIBRARY!" Came an angry voice from across the library. A witch in a dark blue dress was storming over to them.

"So sorry, Madam Pince!" The girl at the end of the table shouted in apology.

Madam Pince did not seem to be a forgiving person, however.

"One more outburst from you, Lisa, and you'll be banned from this library for a month!" scolded Madam Pince.

"Yes, Madam." The girl replied, almost groveling.

Content to see her contriteness, Madam Pince headed back into the library stacks. When she was no longer in sight, Lisa rounded on Tristan in fear and gathered up all the books she could carry.

"Wait!" Tristan whispered. "I'm not dangerous."

Lisa jumped up and tried to walk away but she was losing her grip on one of the many books she had piled in her hands. Tristan could completely feel his legs again, so he rushed over to help her, lest they both be thrown out of the library. He caught a book called _The Magical Guide to Swimming_ shortly before another book entitled _Reverse Any Curse_ fell and he had to lunge to catch it.

He stood up and began taking books out of Lisa's hands. He sat them back onto the table.

"Please, have a seat. I don't mean to bother you and I'm not trying to push you away from your table. You can have it, I'll leave. I imagine it's almost time for my next class anyway."

"You used magic, without a wand." She said accusingly.

"Is that a crime now?"

"No wizard can use magic without a wand and control it like you just did. A wizard is effectively powerless without a wand. But you…"

She seemed more intrigued by him, then scared now. She was staring at him intently through her large horn-rimmed glasses. Her eyes were a unique shade of burnt umber. Her thick black hair was shaped in a pixie cut and she had light brown skin.

"If you say so," Tristan replied.

"I would keep that secret from others, if I were you." She suggested. "You might cause more of an alarm than you're meaning too, despite being ya know… The enemy of Ravenclaw."

"Enemy of Ravenclaw?" Tristan asked alarmed. He almost forgot to whisper.

"Yeah, your dad killed about fourteen Ravenclaws, many of them his housemates." She frowned "You're not gonna get a lot of sympathy from my lot. In fact, I probably shouldn't be talking to ya."

"Were your parents Ravenclaws as well?" Tristan asked.

"Nope." She answered.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"But you father did kill them." She continued.

Tristan grimaced. "I'm truly sorry about that."

"No worries. They probably deserved it. They were followers of You-know-who. Weren't quite at the rank of Death Eater though. They heard of his teachings all the way in New Zealand, and came to England to join the cause."

She sat back in her chair and began looking through the book titles, presumable looking for the book she had been reading earlier. When she found the book she was looking for, she glanced up at Tristan.

"They figured that they were strong enough together to kill your father and earn a chance to become a part of You-know-who's inner circle. Your father proved to be the greater sorcerer. Even together they were no match."

She began reading her book and did not peer up at him again.

He turned to leave, but she called after him, her eyes still buried in the book.

"Do you think you can wait just a moment? I've only just remembered that we have Defense Against the Dark Arts together." She stopped reading and placed a folded piece of parchment inside the book, marking where she had left off reading. She looked around and then snuck the book into her school bag.

Tristan didn't know whether to leave her there or wait for her. If he was honest with himself, he had no idea how to get to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Being around her made him uncomfortable. She seemed to know a fair bit about things that she ought not have any knowledge of especially being an orphan. Furthermore, she was a Ravenclaw _AND_ her parents were victims of his father's wrath. There could be no way that she would overlook that. At worst, it made interactions with her, extremely uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, despite a burning desire to walk away, Tristan resolved to stay there while she gathered up the books she needed and abandoned the ones she had no use for. From the mess she had left behind, he was certain that she was no closer to mending her relationship with Madam Pince.

At last, she clumsily made her way over to him, extending to him her free hand. "My name is Lisa, by the way. Lisa Turpin.

 **Chapter 6: The Wand and His Boy**

Classes at Hogwarts proved to be incredibly difficult without a wand. While he was able to do his homework due largely in part to Mr. Malfoy sending him all of his required materials (except for a wand of course), he was unable to engage in any spellwork. Two weeks had passed and he was vastly behind the other first years. Furthermore, even though Mr. Malfoy had also sent him Hogwarts robes and extra clothing, he still had to be careful walking around by himself, because he wasn't the sort to blend into his surroundings. Thus, he was constantly on the lookout for being jinxed by vengeful Ravenclaw students. He had later found out that the three boys who had attacked him weeks earlier were third years named Timothy Doogle, Andrew Macklemore, and Arjun Anand.

He spent a lot of time alone at Hogwarts. He thought that he might have found a friend in Lisa, but she had been ridiculed so strongly by the other Ravenclaw students for "fraternizing with the enemy," that she barely spoke to him anymore, even in passing. Similarly, he didn't spend a lot of time with Draco and his gang because he found Draco's growing obsession with Harry Potter to be ridiculous. Tristan had never had the chance to speak with Harry but he felt like he had met him before, and that he was a decent fellow. Therefore, Tristan spent most of his days avoiding the Draco-Harry Potter spat and took to exploring the castle and its many alternating stairways. One evening when he was day dreaming, a stairway leading up to the third floor changed. He did not at first realise his mistake, but when he walked down the abandoned corridor, he passed a half open door and was horrified by the growls he heard coming from inside the room. He heard a man cursing loudly. Having some instinctively bad feeling, Tristan hid himself behind a statue of a mountain troll. To his surprise, his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell stormed out of the room with torn robes and looking not all like the quivering man he always appeared to be during their lessons. Quirrell paused for a moment as he passed the statue. He looked up into the face of the troll with a fiery determination in his eyes. Tristan almost jumped out from his hiding spot when he heard the faint hissing voice of another. Professor Quirrell shook his head violently and walked off.

Tristan peered out from behind the statue, to assure himself that the coast was clear. Seeing that he was alone, he contemplated peeking behind the now closed door from which he heard the growls. He decided against it and found his way down to the library.

He would subsequently regret his decision not to glance behind that door and he spent many evenings searching for answers to his ever increasing questions about what manner of beast dwelled behind that door, or if the beast was indeed Professor Quirrell himself. If only he could access his father's research.

While combing through the many books on transfiguration and banned spells, he often ran into Hermione. It appeared as if she had a change of heart since the first time they had met (that or she didn't have any friends). She even helped him navigate the massive library and its complicated cataloging system. On the rarest occasions, there were times when she would walk him to his lessons to discourage opportunistic Ravenclaws and even some Gryffindors from attacking him. In one instance, a pair of redhead twin boys looked thoroughly disappointed when Hermione showed up with Tristan before the doors of the Great Hall. They shoved small objects into their larger than normal pockets and walked away whistling in feigned innocence.

It was a Wednesday evening in late October, when Tristan sat next to Hermione reading his charms homework in silence. Hermione had her note-taking scroll beside her and she was vigorously taking down notes. She was so consumed in her book that she did not notice that Tristan was writing in his brand new textbook. Hermione hated the "defacement of books", as she frequently told him, but something about her charms reading had her entranced.

Tristan leaned to the side to look over her shoulder. He almost caught a glimpse of what she was reading before he accidentally grazed her shoulder causing her to jump in start. She looked over at him in a bit of a daze.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"Sorry, I wanted to see what you were reading."

She blushed and shut the book. "I don't see what that has to do with anything." She replied.

"I think it does. You've been out of it recently. You've stopped raising your hand as much in lessons." Tristan reasoned. "Surely, something has got you down."

"Well that's it, isn't it? Most of my classmates can hardly stand to be around me. I was so excited to come here, to feel like I'm special for once in my life… I don't want to mess this up. I hope they can see that. It's hard to hold back when you love knowledge and learning. But… just like when I was in primary school, the kids have all started to distance themselves from me." Tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve.

"Look, it's not easy being different. You will stand out. I know I do. What really matters…"

Tristan cut his word short because Hermione's eyes were now the size of saucers.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bellwether."

Tristan turned to see none other than Professor Dumbledore standing behind him. He had never spoken to the headmaster before and the man frightened him a little. Though he had a kind demeanor, he carried himself as one who has great power.

"Y-yes sir." Tristan nervously answered.

"Please come with me." The headmaster said politely.

Tristan nodded and hurriedly gathered up his books.

"Hello, Miss Grainger." Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Do have a good day."

Tristan stood and followed the headmaster out of the library.

Dumbledore walked beside him in the corridor and spoke very softly.

"You had a visitor today, Tristan." Dumbledore paused momentarily, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "And they brought you a wand."

Tristan had so many questions to ask Dumbledore, but he was afraid. He could see that Dumbledore was very serious.

"The woman used a powerful concealment charm to obscure her identity. Our Caretaker, Mr. Filch met her in the main lobby and she instructed that he give this to you." Dumbledore removed a long narrow box from deep within the pocket of his robe and handed it to Tristan.

"Sir? Why would someone be gifting me anything?" Tristan asked.

"We cannot be sure of that. But what we can be sure of is that they are claiming that the wand contained in that box is your father's." Dumbledore pointed to the box while speaking.

At the words "wand" and "father's", Tristan's eyes lit up.

"Sir, is that really true?"

"I am tempted to say that it is not. Your father was a very gifted student. As such, I remember his wandwork as much as his wand. The wand contained in that box was not the wand he used while he was at Hogwarts. Although, I cannot be sure what wand he used in his later life." Said Dumbledore.

"Well, I'm thankful to have a wand, I guess. Even if it is not my father's." Tristan replied.

Dumbledore stopped at the end of the dungeon, where the damp wall stood. Tristan hadn't been paying attention and was therefore surprised to see that their walk had led them to Slytherin house.

"This is where I bid you a good night. And Tristan, I must impress upon you the importance of going to your head of house should anything appear to be amiss about that wand." Dumbledore added seriously.

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded and walked away.

Tristan took the package and went straight to his room. When he got there he opened it to reveal an ornate wand. It looked like no other wand Tristan had ever seen any other student carrying. It had a handle seemingly made of bone though it was charcoal black. The rest of the wand was a dark reddish colour reminding Tristan of drying blood. Furthermore, there were dark rubies from the tip of the wand leading back to the handle. The wand was both beautiful and fierce. Next to the wand was a note.

 _Congratulations on your sorting into Slytherin House. Many great witches and wizards have come from that house. I wanted you to have this wand. It was your father's. It pains me to give it away after all these years because it is all I have left of him. But I know that he would want you to have it. Your father watched out for others when he did not have to, so I will watch after you. Should you need anything, you need only ask._

Tristan read the note over and over before falling asleep in bed. The next morning, he was excited to wake up for the day's lessons. His newly acquired wand gave him a sense of confidence and safety. He walked to the Great Hall alone that morning and gleefully sat by himself at the table while students from the other houses stared at him. It was unusual for him to be at breakfast before the other first year Slytherins. Tristan had adapted a habit of sneaking around the castle as a means of avoiding confrontation. He still very much felt like an outsider and until now, he did not have a wand. Tristan now knew that even though he didn't know how to use the wand, it would serve as a deterrent for bullies.

Tristan finished his bacon and eggs and trotted off to the library to study before his History of Magic class.

The library was empty when he got there. Tristan reasoned that many of the students were still at breakfast. He perused the library for a book that he had been reading a few days earlier. It was a book on rare magical creatures. He found the book, "Mysterious Beasts of Britain" by Newt Scamander, slightly sticking out from the surrounding books on a lower shelf of one of the towering bookcases. He pulled it from the shelf and began walking towards a table.

An arm grabbed hold of his and pulled him into another row of books. The girl put her finger over his mouth, motioning him to be silent. He turned to see a group of boys searching the library. It was them; the ones who had ambushed him weeks earlier. Tristan slowly reached for his wand, cognizant of the fact that he didn't really know how to use it. Lisa grabbed his wand arm with both hands.

"Don't!" she whispered in a small frantic voice.

Lisa aimed her own wand at a stack of unshelved books adjacent to the Ravenclaw bullies and quietly called forth her spell. "Wingardium Leviosa."

The books rose high into the air and then clattered loudly against the table as they fell.

The boys jumped and spun around with their wands outstretched. One boy attempted to hurl a jinx at a random bookshelf that he must have assumed his adversary was hiding behind, but his jinx was counter by Madam Pince, who was storming forward in a rage.

"GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!" she screamed. When she saw the books spread out along the table and floor she bellowed even louder. "YOU ARE BANNED FROM THE LIBRARY UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! 50 POINTS FROM RAVENCLAW!"

Madam Pince looked as if she may turn her wand on them. The boys got the hint, and the terrified trio ran from the library but not before Tristan mistakenly poked his head out too far from the behind the bookshelf. Andrew Macklemore locked eyes with him as he retreated from the library.

"That was a close one!" Lisa exclaimed.

Tristan turned to face her. "I thought you couldn't be seen with me?" Tristan said angrily.

"Hey, I just saved you! A simple 'thank you' would do." She replied tersely.

"Thank you, Lisa." Tristan took the monster book and headed back to find a table.

"That's it? I overheard that they were planning to attack you in the library and I thwarted it! I stuck my neck out for you, even though I'm a Ravenclaw." Lisa explained through gritted teeth.

"I already thanked you. What more do you want?" Tristan asked irritably.

"I don't know. Maybe we can start over." She placed her arm on Tristan's shoulder. "Let's be friends."

Tristan pulled away from Lisa, abandoning his monster book on a nearby table. He was annoyed at Lisa for trying to be his friend now, when only weeks earlier she had turned to join the other Ravenclaws in laughing at him at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She even pointed out his missing tooth, which he had mysteriously managed to grow back since then.

He didn't trust her and he could tell that she was only talking to him because she was lonely and jealous of Hermione. He didn't look back when he spoke, "Maybe we can be friends, but I'm not sure if I can trust you yet." He pulled his wand from his pocket, and cautiously checked outside the doorway of the library before heading out.

The first class he would get to experiment with his new wand was charms. According to Professor McGonagall they would be working on a "simple" spell to summon fire from the tips of their wands. This greatly concerned Tristan as he had a history with fire that did not exactly fall into the realm of control. In fact, he worried that he might lose control of his fire and endanger the entire class.

"Listen to me class." Professor McGonagall called the attention of the class to her. She had a very stern look on her face. "Fire is nothing to play around with. It is not easy to control and it can quite easily grow out of control."

She waved her wand in a sweeping motion calling out "incendio" and the scrap of parchment on her desk ignited into a large controlled flame.

"The next spell I would like you all to try after successfully igniting your parchment, is the spell to put out the flame." Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at the flaming parchment and moved her hand side to side calling out "aguamenti". A stream of water shot from the tip of her wand and within an instant, the fire was not more than smoke.

She motioned for the class to begin. She eyed Tristan carefully. Perhaps she was worried because it was his first time casting a spell with a wand. Tristan grew nervous with this more than direct supervision. He eyed Draco on his right, who had managed to shoot only sparks from his wand. Blaise, however, had lived up to his name. A small red flame sat calmly on his desk. The other students looked on jealously.

Blaise, imitated the Professor's movements again and called out "aguamenti." The water drenched the fire and the flame subsided.

"Well done, Mr. Zabini. 5 points to Slytherin." McGonagall announced.

With all eyes on Zabini, Tristan went to try the spell for the first time. "Incendio" he whispered, not quite following the movements of the professor.

Thick blue flames ignited not only his scrap of parchment but his entire desk area as well. Professor McGonagall had wisely had them remove their belongings from the desks before beginning their practice spellwork. If she hadn't, he and Pansy Parkinson's books would have melted.

Tristan fell back nervously. He pointed his wand and yelled, "aguamenti!" A meager stream of water shot from the tip of his wand but did nothing to cull the raging fire. Moments later, a larger jet of water engulfed the entire flame, soaking him as well. Dense gray smoke blanketed the room causing many of the students to gag.

Professor McGonagall shouted a spell that was hard for Tristan to hear due to the panic in the room. The smoke quickly began to form into a large ball and dissipate.

Draco was the first person to speak. "That was brilliant, mate!" He yelled in between coughs.

The other Slytherins did not look so happy. Zabini was furious that Tristan upstaged him and Pansy was still touching her face to make sure that it had not been burned off.

Tristan turned to his professor, who was still silent. She looked very worried. He thought that she might give him detention but when she spoke, it was to dismiss the class early.

In the common room that evening, many of the first year Slytherins were still upset that Tristan had almost managed to engulf them in flames. Tristan was sitting by the fireplace when Pansy approached him still angry from earlier. A surly first year girl named Millicent Bulstrode was beside her.

"I want you to know that your showing off almost got us killed!" Pansy shouted.

"I wasn't trying to show off." Tristan answered.

Pansy ignored him. "We get it! Your dad was some ultra-powerful wizard that liked to use fire. That doesn't mean that you have to remind us that you're his son!"

"I'm not trying to rekindle me father's legacy." Tristan replied angrily.

Pansy ignored him again. "Why does your wand look so funny anyway? It looks as if your aiming to follow the dark arts like your father.

"What's wrong with the Dark Arts?" Draco had walked up and he looked annoyed.

Pansy's face went scarlet. "There's nothing wrong with the Dark Arts, Draco. I just didn't think he needed to try so hard to prove that he was a dark wizard. That's all."

"He's his father's son. He's got nothing to prove! What you're witnessing is raw talent." Draco gave Tristan a grin. He leaned closer. "You were brilliant, mate."

"Thank you, Draco." Tristan grabbed his copy of _A History of Magic_ and retreated to his room. He could feel the eyes following him as he exited the common room.

When he got to his room he climbed into bed fully dressed. He had a million thoughts going through his head, one of which being that he had managed to isolate himself again. Uneasily, he fell asleep.

 _"You don't look so tough."_

 _"How could I be stuck with a runt like you."_

 _"Your dad was so much more talented."_

"I'm not my father!" Tristan called out into the dark room. His eyes were still closed and he found himself annoyed by the dream he seemed to be having.

"No kidding. Your father had more raw talent than anyone I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of people."

Tristan started because the voice was both in his ears and in his mind. He opened his eyes and shot up in bed. It took everything inside him not to scream.

Across from him stood a dark haired boy with long hair tied back into an intricate ponytail. He had bronze skin and wore clothes that looked like animal skins. The boy appeared to be around his age. The boy wore rubies around his neck, strung together by long strands of what appeared to be human hair.

Just as he was studying the strange boy, the boy was studying him.

The boy spoke again, "How did you find me?" He had a strange accent that was hard for Tristan to place.

"Find you? You sneaked in here. Do you even go to this school?" Tristan asked.

"NO! Of course not. I'm not a student." The boy replied.

"Then what are you?"

"You really are dim aren't you? Surely the son of Martin Bellwether would be a lot quicker on the uptake." He sighed. "I am reluctantly your servant."

"My servant? I don't have a servant." Tristan answered.

The boy grunted in frustration, "All wizards do... I'm your wand."


	3. Chapter 7-9

**Chapter 7: Not-so-dear Friend**

The dark-haired boy took one step and within an instant he came from across the room to the foot of Tristan's bed. Tristan jumped out of the bed looking around the room for his wand.

"You don't remember where you put me?" The dark-haired boy asked angrily. "You've got a lot to learn more about being a wizard."

"You're not a wand!" Tristan shouted as he finally spotted his wand, across the room lying on the floor.

"Why is that? In your great wisdom, have you determined all things that are possible and impossible and decided that I am the latter? Or is this some sort of broken logic used to explain the things you wish not to be so, aren't so?"

The dark-haired boy took another small step and he was now in between Tristan and his wand.

In fear Tristan swiped at the boy but his hand passed through empty air. The boy remained staring at him as if nothing happened.

Taking this as his cue, Tristan reached through the boy's leg and grabbed his wand. He pointed it directly at the boy's chest. "Get out of my room!" Tristan ordered.

The boy smirked.

A jolt of pain shot through Tristan's arm, like a stream of electricity. He dropped his wand and cried out.

"You can't hurt me like that. Wands don't attack themselves."

Tristan really didn't want to believe that he was having a conversation with his actual wand, but then again, he knew very little about wands. Maybe this was more common than he had ever heard about.

"It's not very common actually." The dark-haired boy replied.

Tristan was awe struck.

"Yes, I can hear your thoughts. Not all of them, but the thoughts that pertain to me. You see, it's essential for both wand and user to be in tune with one another."

"I have no idea what kind of sorcery this is, but let's say I believe you. What do you want from me?" Tristan asked.

"I don't want anything. I thought that was clear when I said that I am 'reluctantly' your servant."

"Good point. Umm... Do you have a name?" Tristan inquired.

"I seriously doubt you can pronounce it, but it's Cuauhtémoc." The dark-haired boy answered.

"No, you're right, I can't pronounce that. What does it mean?"

Cuauhtémoc seemed proud to explain his name. "Well, in my culture, I was named for the moment that an eagle descends wh-"

"Ah!" Tristan interrupted. "Descending Eagle... I'll call you Dez!"

Dez seemed upset with his nickname, or perhaps it was because Tristan rudely interrupted his story.

Dez stared at him coldly, eyes unblinking.

"How old are you?" Tristan asked. "You look like you couldn't be much older than me."

Dez responded. "I am beyond time, that is to say that time has no meaning to one that has no physical response to it; notwithstanding, I present as the age that is most relatable to my master. You are young and relate most to those your own age, thus I present as an 11-year-old, just like yourself... As for my exact age, all you need to know is that I am the First Wand."

Tristan laughed out loud this time. "You're clearly some sort of delusional poltergeist. Leave me be and let me sleep."

Dez eyed him angrily and disappeared on the spot.

Tristan stared at the spot where Dez had vanished for a long while. He drifted into an uneasy sleep. In his dreams he was in a dark cavern. The walls were littered with carvings in an ancient language. His father stood ahead of him, he wore dark, leathery robes with a torch in his right hand. He pointed at a specific inscription upon the wall. He mouthed words but sound did not escape his lips.

Tristan stared at the inscription as it became hazy. Slowly the symbols became familiar letters and the inscription read: _Wit beyond measure is mans' greatest treasure."_

He turned to his father, but in his place was large dragon with dark leathery wings, and instead of a torch, embers of fire were kindled behind the eyes of the great beast. It turned to Tristan, opened its mouth and roared as a steady stream of flame erupted from its mouth and engulfed Tristan.

Tristan was awakened by the smell of fire. He jumped from his bed in a panic but was relieved to find that he was not on fire, though upon further inspection, he was troubled to find that he had burned to hand-shaped holes through his sheets.

Later that morning, after his Potions lessons Tristan found himself hurrying to the library to delve into wand lore. He tried asking Madam Pince about wands speaking to their wielders, but she merely laughed at him and told him that Hogwarts was a place for wizards and not lunatics. He took this as a sign that perhaps his situation was not normal and the fewer people that knew about it, the better.

When his fervent researching yielded little results, he decided that it would be prudent of him to search in the restricted section. The only problem with his plan to search the restricted section was, well it was restricted.

Later that day after Herbology, Tristan managed to catch up with Hermione. She would often walk very quickly with her head down and so he didn't find it unusual when he saw her walking furiously down one of the castle's corridors. He found himself having to break into a light jog to catch up to her and tap her on the shoulder. She stopped abruptly and Tristan almost crashed into her.

"I was wondering if you'd been in the restricted section of the library, or if you knew by chance how I could get in." Tristan blurted out as one long garbled sentence, still trying to catch his breath.

Hermione turned but did not look him in the face. Tristan could see that her eyes were as red as tomatoes and her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Um, are you alright, Hermione?"

He did the only thing he could think of at that moment and embraced her in a hug. Her bushy hair brushed against his chin and her face buried into his shoulder. She sobbed aloud but her voice was muffled. After a few minutes, she pulled away and headed into the girl's lavatory where he couldn't follow her.

He waited outside for a while, even opting to skip his next lesson, which was Flying with Madam Hooch. Tristan was a month behind on flying lessons and found that he often slowed the class down anyways.

As he waited outside the girl's lavatory, he noticed that the corridors fell silent during lesson time. This made it much more troubling to him to hear quiet whistling.

Dez appeared suddenly and almost caused Tristan to fall over from surprise. Tristan composed himself and turned angrily at Dez.

Dez stared back at him, a fierce look in his eyes. "Run."

Tristan started at the severity in Dez's voice.

"RUN!" Dez yelled again, this time louder.

Tristan could hear the whistling being accompanied by footsteps and the footsteps were getting rapidly closer.

Tristan took off into a sprint down the corridor, hoping to find a professor or even the caretaker Mr. Filch. To his horror, there was no one. He continued running as the footsteps matched pace with his and multiplied. He had no idea who or what was chasing him, but his worst fear was the it was the beast of the third-floor corridor.

He ran until he was through the front doors of the castle. He noticed a hut far out on the grounds and hoped that he might find some help there. He ran only a handful of steps before he felt a sharp pain in his lower back, and he was lifted high up into the air. The pain was so extreme that he perceived nothing until he made contact with the ground again, shoulder first. He bellowed in agony. He tried to pull his wand from his pocket (not that he knew any defensive spells) but he was fairly certain that his shoulder had been dislocated. He screamed again from the pain.

He was surrounded by footsteps now and familiar laughter. All three of his adversaries stood over him: Timothy Doogle, Andrew Macklemore, and Arjun Anand. He reached for his wand with his left hand, but as he pulled it from his pocket, Arjun came down hard upon it with his foot.

Tristan grimaced, knowing that his wand would be broken. Arjun continued to stomp on it, but to his bewilderment, the wand stayed in one piece. He opted to kick it out of the reach of Tristan.

"We're going to kill you, Bellwether! It's repayment for what your dad did to our families." Doogle kicked him hard in the ribs and Tristan gasped for air. He tried to climb to his feet, but all three boys began kicking him simultaneously. Tristan, a student of martial arts, did the best thing he could, given the circumstances. He steadied himself with his left arm and kicked out the legs of Arjun. Then he tackled the boy who was closest to Arjun. He made to swing on Macklemore with his good arm, but he heard the shout of "Crucio!" and a pain that he had never imagined he could have experienced in his eleven short years of life. He almost welcomed the continued kicks of the boys, so that it would drown out the fire flooding throughout his nervous system. The fire. Fire.

Tristan put his left hand to the ground and whispered "Incendio". This time instead of red or blue flames, black flames flicked into being. The boys jumped away in fear and tried to run but the black flames took the shape of a small fox and took chase after them. When it reached the boys, it split into two foxes and encircled them in flames. The flames grew taller and taller till Tristan almost couldn't see the boys anymore, but he could hear they're blood curtailing screams.

Tristan looked up to see Dumbledore racing across the school grounds. He had never imagined a man so old could move so quickly. He shouted a series of enchantments and a shimmering blue barrier formed in between the three boys and the black flames.

Dez appeared beside Tristan. "Pick up your wand, boy. It would not be good if anyone were to know that you were doing magic without it."

Tristan found his wand, several meters away, and he crawled over to it. A satisfied Dez disappeared once again.

Dumbledore was distracted with trying to quell the black flames, but every spell he tried only managed to cause the flames to grow larger.

The boys were crying hysterically now, and the entire scene was starting to draw a crowd. Amongst those hurrying to the scene was Professor Snape.

"Headmaster, if I may. This is fiendfyre." Snape said. "As you know, I have some familiarity with curses such as this."

Dumbledore nodded.

Snape walked over to Tristan, who was now on his feet, and looked past him. He wiped blood from Tristan's swollen cheek, dabbed his wand in it, and whispered a spell.

The flames screamed in protest as they were seemingly pulled into the earth, becoming smaller and smaller until there was nothing but three quivering boys who were holding themselves and crying. Their clothes were in tatters, but they had only minor burns. On the whole, they were fine.

Dumbledore gave Tristan a fierce look but seemed to compose himself before he spoke.

"Come with me to my office, Tristan."

"But sir! They attacked me!" Tristan shouted in protest.

"This is a matter not to be discussed here. Come. Now." Dumbledore said sternly.

Tristan dropped his head in shame as he followed the headmaster. He had the sick feeling that he was going to be expelled from another school. They cut through the crowd of gawking students and headed back into the school.

When the two of them stopped, they were face to face with a lifelike gargoyle statue. Dumbledore said the words "chocolate frog", and to Tristan's surprise, the gargoyle leapt aside revealing a staircase. Tristan followed Dumbledore up the staircase and into his office.

Tristan was wowed by all the knickknacks and gadgets spread out around the office. This place reminded him a lot of his father's laboratory except there weren't creepy paintings staring down at him at his father's laboratory.

Dumbledore cut through the silence with a polite request that Tristan have a seat in a chair facing his desk. Dumbledore, however, did not sit. He stared at Tristan for a while, and Tristan got the urge that the headmaster might be trying to probe his mind. Tristan focused heavily on his family, on Bimpy and Leally, and he felt the pressure in his head fading. He looked up at Dumbledore, who had beads of sweat on his brow.

"Tristan what you've done is very serious. We don't allow students to cast curses at Hogwarts. Dark magic is extraordinarily dangerous. If Snape or I hadn't been there, then those boys would have died."

"But, sir!" Tristan blurted out. "They tried to kill me. The hit me with a spell where… Well, it was more pain than I've ever felt. I was consumed by pain from head to toe. I don't know how I did that spell, but I was only defending myself."

Dumbledore paused. He appeared to be weighing the new evidence in his mind. To Tristan's horror, Dumbledore glanced down at the wand he was still holding and reached out his hand.

"Might I have a look at that wand, Tristan?" Dumbledore asked in a feigned polite manner.

Tristan was frightened that he was being stripped of his wand and expelled. Truth be told, he didn't care much about being expelled because he hated it at Hogwarts, but after learning how necessary a wand was for protection, Tristan did not want to be stripped of his.

Tristan slowly raised his wand but stopped when he saw that Dez was standing between him and Dumbledore. Dumbledore peered through Dez as if he wasn't even there.

"Do not hand him your wand!" Dez ordered.

Tristan didn't know what to do. He couldn't answer him aloud. _I have to do this,_ he thought.

"No, you don't. No wizard is forced to turn over his wand against his will unless he is being formally charged with something! Your headmaster knows this."

Tristan pulled back his hand. "No."

Dumbledore gave him a piercing glance. Tristan stared back into his deep blue eyes.

"I am not accusing or charging you with anything, and of course, it is your choice to turn over that wand. But I would suggest that it would make things easier for you, so that we can get to the bottom of this incident." Dumbledore explained.

Tristan mulled over his words, sighed, and handed his wand to Dumbledore.

Dez looked hurt and angry, but as soon as Tristan handed over the wand, he disappeared.

Dumbledore grabbed his wand, which looked equally as old as Tristan's wand. He held Tristan's wand aloft in his left hand and pointed his wand at it speaking the words, "Priori incantatem."

Dez appeared again, but this time he looked strained. He looked at Dumbledore, who still couldn't see him.

Dumbledore repeated the charm, "Priori incantatem."

"I will be subject to NO other wand!" Dez screamed.

Though he was only a poltergeist, as Tristan thought, he seemed to be sweating from the effort of staving off Dumbledore's spell.

"Such a strange wand." Dumbledore murmured to no one in particular.

He pointed his wand once more, speaking with more authority. "Alliges duplicia!"

Instantly, ropes appeared around Dez like vines. He fell forward onto his knees screaming in protest. He fought against the dark grey ropes, but it was no use.

Dumbledore once again said, "Priori incantatem."

This time a light emitted from the wand. Tristan could hear his own unsteady voice saying, Wingardium leviosa" and a large incandescent feather floated unsteadily. The image lasted for a few seconds and then it was gone.

Dumbledore handed the wand back to Tristan. He looked worried now.

"You know, it is said that some wands have a mind of their own." Dumbledore fingered his own wand as he spoke. "It is also said that the wand chooses the wizard." He walked around his desk and took a seat in his large ornate chair. "Even more so, I think that some wands control the wizards that possess them."

Tristan fought to maintain a straight face. His eyes were still upon Dez who was finally managing to wriggle out of from the constraints of the constricting ropes.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, headmaster." Tristan replied a little too quickly.

Dumbledore moved so fast that his hands were a blur. He pointed his wand at Tristan's left hand and shouted, "Priori incantatem!"

Tristan jumped back in start, causing the chair to tip over. He landed on his dislocated right shoulder and winced in pain. He was astonished to see that his left hand was acting of its own accord. It lifted itself into a raised hand position, as light emitted from its palm.

A translucent version of Tristan appeared. He was severely battered and bruised.

To this point, Tristan hadn't realised how bad he looked. He saw the terror in his eyes when he cast the spell "Incendio". He saw the translucent black flames spring up from the ground in the form of a fox and chase his attackers.

It was Dumbledore's turn to jump back in start. He seemed unable to speak. When the image finally faded, he stood and walked over to Tristan.

Tristan could tell that he was trying to maintain an air of calmness.

"This is worse than I thought." Dumbledore said plainly.

"Sir?"

"A spell like that should not have produced a flame that powerful. I have my theories, but I will keep them to myself at this time. Furthermore, it appears that you don't need a wand to cast magic. I've never seen this before. Usually a wizard without a wand can only cast accidental magic, magic triggered by emotions, but you see, you casted a spell using only your hands as a conduit."

"It was an accident—" Tristan tried to explain but Dumbledore cut him off.

"Do not lie to me!" Dumbledore boomed. "I know that you are scared." His voice returned to his normal sleepy, kind voice. "You were probably told at some point in time that you should hide this ability from others in the magical community, lest you attract unwanted attention. I agree."

Snape burst into the office suddenly. He didn't seem to notice Tristan sitting there on the floor.

"Headmaster, I believe that he will try tonight!" Snape spoke, anger in his tone.

He noticed too late that Tristan was sitting there staring at him. Snape changed the subject immediately.

"The boys seem injured, but they'll live." Snape spat out.

"Yes. I had assumed so." Dumbledore replied.

"And him?" Snape asked.

"It appears that one of those boys used the Cruciatus curse on him among other things."

Snape sneered.

"He will live but I'm afraid he cannot go unpunished. It would set a dangerous precedent, and the minister would see me as biased." Dumbledore explained.

"How long will you continue to let harm come to my students?" Snape hissed angrily. "The boy was defending himself. He sits here in a pool of his own blood!"

"I know that, Severus. But dark magic, be it intentional or unintentional cannot go without consequence. He shall be given a month's worth of detentions with you."

"And the Ravenclaws?" Snape asked.

"We cannot punish them as we have no proof of their transgressions other than the words of Mr. Bellwether, a child that is already hated due to the actions of his father." Dumbledore explained.

"Take their wands and track their spells!" Snape shot back.

"Severus, I cannot search their wands without due cause."

"And yet you question him?" Snape replied. "When you made me head of Slytherin house, you told me that I could restore the reputation of Slytherin. That the children would no longer be prejudged as future dark wizards and deviants. And still if given a choice between Slytherin and another house, they all chose the latter."

Dumbledore spoke delicately. "It will take more than 10 years' time to heal the hurt caused by Voldemort. I'm sorry Severus. You know the truth, as well as I, if there were only Slytherins aligned with Voldemort, then the war would have ended a lot sooner. Corruption runs deep no matter which house you come from."

Dumbledore approached Tristan, who was now standing, and placed his hand on Tristan's uninjured shoulder. "If given the chance, Mr. Bellwether may help restore the name of Slytherin. His abilities could change magic as we know it."

"And what _abilities_ are those?" Snape asked sardonically.

"He can do magic without a wand, Severus."

Snape's jaw fell open. He looked between Dumbledore and Tristan, as if they were both in on the joke.

Dumbledore continued, "I want you to use his detention to train him to control his magic. We don't need another incident like the one today."

"Right, sir." Snape answered.

"And Severus, no one can know about this boy's abilities, or else the minister will for surely have him carted off to Azkaban."

Snape nodded in agreement.

"And about the other business, Headmaster?" Snape asked.

"We will talk about that after Mr. Bellwether is escorted back to Slytherin House."

"Not the hospital wing?" Questioned Snape.

"His wounds have almost completely healed, except for…" Dumbledore waved his wand and whispered a spell.

Tristan felt sharp pain as his right shoulder popped back into place. He grunted as the pain quickly subsided.

Dumbledore smiled and motioned for Tristan to follow Snape out of the office.

Tristan skipped dinner that evening and sat up in bed angrily recounting the events of that day. He was furious that Doogle, Macklemore, and Anand would be receiving no punishment. He was also angry about the argument he had with Dez after returning to his room. He was coming to terms with the fact that Dez was not a poltergeist but a wand with feelings. Dez felt betrayed and angry that Tristan handed him over so willingly. Tristan assured him that he had only done so to ensure that Dez was not permanently confiscated. However, Dez explained to him that there was only one wand he had ever feared, and it was the wand that Dumbledore held. He explained that the wand was made by some "thing" that was horrible, and Dez shuddered even thinking about it. Tristan tried his best to reassure Dez that he would not betray him again, but Dez vanished before he could finish apologising.

Shortly after dinner time, Dez heard a loud commotion in the common room area. He climbed out of bed to see what had occurred. When he reached the top of the staircase, he could see that the common room was teeming with students. He pushed his way through the crowd of students to find Malfoy.

Malfoy appeared nervous but he stood next to Crabbe and Goyle who looked excited.

"What's wrong?" Tristan asked the group.

Crabbe was the first to speak in his low, raspy voice. "Someone's gone and let a troll in, haven't they?" He sniggered. "Hope it don't eat no girls. I heard it was headed towards the girls' loo."

"Wouldn't mind seeing that!" Goyle chimed in.

The two of them laughed. Malfoy, however, looked sick.

"Too bad they made us all come back here, so we don't get to watch nothin." Said Crabbe.

Tristan felt like this was a vast overreaction by the teacher's, but then again, he had never seen a troll before. And if this beast was so terrible, why then did they risk moving the students from the great hall.

He turned to walk away, but something Goyle said made his stomach sink.

"I didn't see that know-it-all Granger at dinner. Maybe it ate her." Goyle cackled loudly.

Tristan began to panic. _Surely Hermione was not still in the lavatory from early in the day. She seemed so tough, he was sure that she probably went back to Gryffindor house and decided to skip dinner._ He decided right then that he would check on her to make sure she was ran back down to his room, grabbed his wand, and was surprised to find that he had no difficulty sneaking his way out of the Slytherin common room. One girl actually waved at him as he left.

Tristan ran towards the last place he remembered seeing Hermione. The closer he came to the lavatory, the louder the banging and crashing sounds became. As he ran, Dez appeared floating alongside him. He looked as if he had been crying.

"This is stupid you know." Dez blurted out.

"I know, I know." Tristan answered.

"You can't beat a troll. You have no control over any magic." Dez explained. "Not that I care, but don't get yourself killed over this girl."

Tristan was touched to see that his wand somewhat cared about him.

When he arrived at the women's toilets, the door was held ajar by debris. He could see a rather peculiar sight. There was boy with glasses with his arms wrapped around the neck of a large hairy creature. The creature looked odd enough on its own, but it happened to have a long wooden wand stuck up its nostril. This creature was most definitely the troll that Crabbe spoke of, and it was brandishing a large wooden club which it swung here and there.

Tristan saw Ron's ginger hair through the opening in the doorway, and he could see that Ron was pointing his wand at the troll's enormous club while calling out "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Nothing happened and without thinking, Tristan pointed his wand at the club and spoke the same spell. The massive club flew into the air.

"Aim it at his head!" Dez shouted.

Tristan did as he was instructed, and the heavy club came down hard upon the top of the troll's head. The troll staggered and fell forward onto its face, unconscious. Ron stood there with his wand still pointed where the club had been.

"Is it – dead?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so," said Harry, the boy who had been straddling the troll's back. "I think it's just been knocked out."

Harry bent down towards the troll's face, but Dez floated in front of Tristan.

"You should probably hide before the professors see you. Don't give them a reason to take your wand again." Dez spit out.

Tristan ran around the corner and hid behind a tapestry hanging on the wall. He could distinguish the voices of Professors McGonagall and Snape and he guessed that the third voice might have been Flitwick's or Quirrell's. He was annoyed to hear the Professors congratulating Ron for taking on a full-grown mountain troll.

Tristan waited there until the scene had cleared and then he headed back to his common room. When he was a few corridors away, he heard a faint voice call after him. He turned to see a short figure in a hood staring at him.

His instincts told him to run, but the person held up their hands in a gesture of peace and removed their hood. It was Lisa Turpin.

 **Chapter 8: The Proposition**

"What are you doing out here?" Tristan asked confused. "We're all supposed to be in our houses."

"That's funny coming from you." Lisa shot back playfully. "I snuck out to the Forbidden Forest!"

"But it's… Well, it's forbidden, isn't it?" Tristan replied dumbfounded.

"I'm assuming something happened while I was away."

"Yeah, a troll got loose in the dungeon. It attacked Hermione. Almost killed her if…" Tristan made air quotes, "Ron and Harry didn't come to her rescue."

"Oh no!" Lisa said sarcastically. "Glad nothing happened to our resident know-it-all."

"I'm guessing you don't like her much."

Lisa clicked her tongue in an irritated sort of way. "If I'm being honest, I don't mind that she knows things, but I really don't like how she has to let the rest of us know that she knows these things."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Tristan shouted, suddenly irritated.

"It means that just because you're fond of her, doesn't mean the rest of us are!" Lisa fired back defensively. "Besides you should be worrying more about yourself. You had students actually trying to kill you today!"

Tristan felt a sting in his gut. He looked away. Furthermore, he felt as if Lisa was going to tell him something he wasn't ready to hear. Tristan rolled his eyes and began to walk away from Lisa, but she followed behind him, trying her best to reason with him.

"Wait, I need your help!"

When Tristan didn't stop, she continued.

"I saw what they did to you. It's been a struggle for you to survive here, why worry about _her?"_

And there it was. The proverbial second shoe dropping. Tristan stopped and took a deep breath to steady his temper. He did not want this to escalate into a screaming match. He took his time before speaking. "So, you're telling me you witnessed the attack earlier?"

"I saw the whole thing." Lisa said plainly.

" _You saw the whole thing?_ Why didn't you get help? Why didn't you tell Dumbledore that I was just defending myself?"

Lisa gazed down at the floor uncomfortably.

"If I'm being honest, I hadn't calculated the events of this afternoon. You see, I have been planning to go into the Forbidden Forest for weeks. I was supposed sneak out there while everyone was in lessons, but I didn't count on the vigilance of Filch and Hagrid; that great oaf!

"Hey! Hagrid's alright in my book!" Tristan interjected defensively. He found he generally liked Hagrid, the keeper of grounds and keys at Hogwarts. Hagrid was an enormous man, nearly 10 feet tall, with a great shaggy beard, long wild hair, and a very kind disposition. He didn't always seem quick on the uptake, but in the limited interactions Tristan had with him, he found he was likeable.

"Fine! He's not an oaf… Don't interrupt me, I'll get lost… Where was I? Right! It's Hagrid's job to watch over the grounds and he takes he responsibilities way too seriously. That great dog of his, I think he said its name was Fang, almost sniffed me out. I made a break for the woods, and here comes that giant hound bounding after me. Then to my surprise, what to do I see but you fighting three third years. I think you would have won had they not used an unforgivable curse. The Cruciatus to be exact—"

"What's an unforgivable curse?"

"Tristan! My story! Don't interrupt. Ugh! An unforgivable curse is a curse punishable by time in Azkaban Prison. Not to mention, a curse like that hitting someone so young like you, there's no doubt in my mind that they meant for it to kill you."

Tristan stifled a gasp and balled his fist in anger. He wished that he had done more than just singe those boys' clothes. He wished that he could go back and give them what they deserved. He wished that he wasn't stopped by Dumbledore.

"So, I made a break for the woods and—"

"You said that already."

"Ugh! That's because you made me lose my place… Hmmm… Right, so they meant to kill you, but I think that there is something different about you. Despite the pain you feel, I'd say that given how you look and how they look, it appears that your body was feeding off that curse. Like it enjoys dark magic. See how your hair is turning greyer?" She pointed at the side of Tristan's hair.

Tristan waved her off. He was sure she wanted something from him, but she was long winded, and Tristan was getting tired of listening to her. He sighed. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Well, I need your help. I can't get through the Forbidden Forest on my own, you see. I tried and was nearly devoured by a giant spider." She said matter-of-factly. "But then I saw what you can do, how you wield magic even when you've been stripped of a wand, and I thought to myself, 'self, he's the boy to help us.'" She smiled her mechanical smile as if it sweetened her request.

"So, you need me to go into that deathtrap of a forest with you?"

"You'll be rewarded handsomely. I'm looking for a treasure and when I find it, I just need one item, the rest is yours!"

Tristan looked her up and down. "And what is that item?"

She blushed. "I can't tell you."

"No deal."

"Why not!?"

"Because I don't care about treasure. If I help you then you have to go to the Headmaster and tell him what you saw earlier today. Tell him that they were trying to kill me, and I was only defending myself." Tristan answered.

"If I do that my career in Ravenclaw is over!"

"Those are my terms."

"B-but…" Lisa seemed to be searching for the right words to say but none would come to her. Her whole body drooped in defeat. "Fine. It's a deal."

Tristan spent the following month in preparation for the task at hand; surviving the Forbidden Forest. While Lisa was happy to have recruited the help of Tristan, she too felt that he needed to get stronger and learn control over his magic.

Unfortunately for him, getting stronger meant a rigorous training regimen that included 6 A.M. jogs around the castle. The Hogwarts' grounds were massive, and he often gave up halfway through a lap. However, slowly but surely, he was beginning to build up his endurance. Lisa also had him doing pushups, sit ups, and sprinting exercises.

Moreover, he spent an hour each day after dinner working with her to control his magic without his wand. This was in addition to the time he was stuck spending an hour each day with his Head of House, Professor Snape, learning to control his magic with a wand. Between all the training, he found very little time to do his schoolwork. Well, he found time to do it, but he was not sure if he was doing it well.

Nevertheless, he found that Snape was a great teacher in the art of dueling, and he taught him loads of new spells to help him block and disarm a potential attacker. Snape believing dueling was the best way for one to hone his or her magical abilities.

On the other hand, Tristan's training with Lisa, was going terribly. If it were at all possible, he felt like he was getting worse at controlling his magic without a wand. One night in late November, Lisa stopped aiming jinxes at him, intent on him blocking, and just told him to sit down next to her.

"Tristan, it's clear this isn't working. We've been working almost a full month at this and we're not getting anywhere. It seems like the better you get with the wand, the worse you get without one. It's like you're losing a second language because you haven't been using it enough… Let's try this. Tell me how you came about learning to use magic without a wand."

Tristan thought to himself. He remembered thinking it was quite normal for him to do simple, everyday tasks without a wand. He found that he didn't even need to necessarily call out a spell in Latin, like wizards are trained to do. All he needed to do was think the words, and what he had willed would present itself. That's it! Tristan was shocked to realize that he may have found a key to his past hidden in a blind spot or a lapse in judgement.

"I was taught how to do magic by my mom, Bimpy! Although, she only taught me how to do helpful things. Spells of tidying, you know." Tristan scratched his chin. "But come to think of it, Leally taught me a lot of spells that wound up getting me into trouble." He laughed to himself.

"Bimpy? Leally? Those are very strange names indeed." Lisa stopped speaking and began mumbling something unintelligible to herself. She stood up and began pacing.

"Why would they assume you could use magic without a wand if that wasn't the norm?"

"It is the norm though, isn't it? For house elves, I mean." He laughed. "A wand is practically half their s—"

"House elf?!" Though she was much shorter than Tristan, Lisa faced off with him, looking him in the eyes angrily. She pointed an accusatory finger at him and when she spoke, she jabbed her finger into his chest every time. "How. Come. You. Didn't. Tell—"

"Ow!"

"Me. You. Were-"

"Ow!"

"Raised. By. House elves?" She finished. "This was the exact information I needed for my equations. Of course, this all makes sense now." She walked away from Tristan, her hand ruffling her dark black hair. "You're not using wizard magic. You're using elf magic."

"Elf magic?" Tristan repeated confused.

"Yes! Their spells are different than ours. Though often used to do the same things, they are not the same spells. That's why you had such a hard time controlling that fire. It was a wizard spell, but it appears you can only do elf spells with your hands. How that happened, I have no idea." She turned about face and began walking back towards him.

"Maybe that's why the magic they taught was in the elvish tongue and not Latin." Tristan reasoned.

"Elvish tongue!? As in the dead house elf language?" Lisa froze in shock.

"It's not dead. Many of the house elves still speak it, just not in the company of wizards."

"That is amazing!" she did a little dance to herself. "That's it isn't it? We have to find a house elf to teach you spells."

"How are we going to do that? There are house elves here, I've noticed, but I doubt they know the type of magic that would be useful in a fight."

"Well then let's go to your, mate. What his name, Winky?"

"Leally, and he's my brother. Also, there the fact of the matter that he's not here."

"You said on the first day that we met, that you knew how to apparate, right? Just apparate us there." Lisa suggested.

"One, there's no apparating at Hogwarts, they've got some sort of spell blocking it. Two, even if did manage to apparate, there's no guarantee I'd be able to take you along with me."

"Nonsense. You have the uncanny ability to absorb magic! I think you can siphon off the magic from that spell and use it to boost your own magic. In boosting your own magic, you should be able to take us both." Lisa was apparently working out the logistics in her head, because she looked absolutely mad with excitement.

Tristan stared at her, an unease in his gut. "Has anyone ever told you that you look insane when you're happy?"

Later than night, Tristan stood alone in the classroom where he had his Potions lessons. He had arrived moments before his detention was set to begin, and he was sure that he would hear an earful from Snape. Instead, he found that he was met by only silence. The classroom was empty, and Tristan was now noticing how creepy the room was. There were shelves upon shelves of unnamed dark substances, and at the back of the room there were cupboards containing who knows what else. He tapped his foot hoping that he wouldn't have wait there alone much longer.

Minutes went by and still there was no sign of Snape. Tristan thought to himself, _perhaps Professor Snape has been injured again like what happened to him earlier in the month._ At that time, his leg looked as if had been mangled by a monstrous creature.

Tristan sat there in the dark dungeon room wandering if there was a maximum amount of time that he was supposed wait before assuming that Snape wasn't coming. It had been 15 minutes already and he was getting restless waiting there in the dark dungeon classroom.

At nearly half past, Snake stormed in angrily. He was muttering to himself something that sounded like, "that wretched Potter boy." Tristan decided it would be best to skip the small talk today.

Ever since Tristan began training with Snape, he found that his methods were grueling but fair. Snape was not the sort to go easy on a student simple because of their age. He knew that there were those who would have no sympathy on their victims, even if those victims were 11-year-old would-be wizards.

"Up against the wall, Tristan." Snape said coldly.

Tristan obeyed out of fear of upsetting Snape.

"Tell me, what are the three ways to win a duel?" Snape spat at him.

"Disarm, dismember, or death." Tristan answered.

"Come forward. Present your wand. We shall duel." Snape ordered.

Tristan walked forward and bowed, as he had learned was customary in a duel. He took the requisite number of steps away from Snape and prepared to defend against Snape's first attack. He had long since realized that he was not quick enough to launch his spell before Snape's, but he had the quickness to summon a shield charm before Snape's spell hit him or he could dodge his attack all together.

This time was no different. Before Tristan could fully extend his arm, Snape had shouted, "Stupefy!" and a jet of red light barreled toward Tristan. As his arm reached its full extension he yelled, "Protego!".

The red light careened off the invisible barrier that had formed between Snape and Tristan.

"What did I tell you before?! He has a tell!" Dez appeared in front of Tristan. "He tends to lean to the left, just before casting a spell- Move now!"

Tristan lunged left as a bright purple light shot through Dez's chest and whizzed by his right shoulder.

Dez, was unphased. "Watch the positioning of his feet. He likes to stay grounded during a duel. It makes it hard for him to move on a whim. There's no spring in his step. That tells you he is either stupid or capable of some pretty powerful magic. You must be like water. Stay fluid with your movements."

Snape flicked his wand out this time and blinding neon yellow light immitted from its tip.

Tristan shielded his eyes with his free arm, unable to see where Snape was.

Dez yelled out to him. "He's three steps to your right. Counter now!"

"Ardua ruinam!" Tristan fired off a spell in the general direction indicated by Dez.

His spell hurtled towards Snape's exposed right armpit.

"Prote—"

It was too late. The dark blue light raced past Snape's emerging protection charm and found it's mark. He fell backwards as if he were falling from a great height and hit the ground with great force."

Tristan gasped, feeling sheepish about potentially injuring his professor. He ran over to Snape to check on him. His still dark form lay crumpled on the floor.

"Sir, are you—"

"Incarcerous!" Snape shouted.

Thin, cordlike ropes wrapped around him, binding his arms to his side and his legs together. He lost his balance and fell over.

Snape climbed to his feet, madness in his eyes. He looked like he was in excruciating pain. "Never lower your wand in a duel."

Snape pointed his wand at the ropes around Tristan and whispered, "Fulguris Maxima."

A bluish white spark shot from his wand and enveloped the ropes in electricity. Tristan screamed in pain. He could feel countless volts of electricity surging through his body. He felt as if was going to black out from the pain, but then he remembered that he had experienced worse.

"Good! I thought you were going to panic for a second." Dez laughed. "This moody fool is a slave to his own lack of self-worth. You must understand your opponent. Read him. It will make it easier for you to do what you do best."

"Oh, right! That makes sense!" Tristan thought sarcastically. His teeth still gritted tightly.

"I've seen you do this, without even knowing. It's like your body feeds off magic. The darker the spell the better. Feel this spell. Feel the user. Take this magic."

Tristan closed his eyes and tried to imagine a cessation of the continual electric jolts. He pictured his professor, saw the rage in his face when he cast his spell, and perceived the feelings in his heart.

Dez spoke again, this time more calmly. "You see it now, don't you? This is not a man motivated by greed or grandeur. He is not moved by external stimuli but directed by something internal."

Slowly but surely the pain of the electricity began to subside.

Snape stood over him. "That spell you used was a cute trick. I felt like I was falling from a great height. It wasn't all perception though was it? When I hit the floor, the impact was much greater than it should have been, given the distance I had fallen. In all actuality, it felt as if I had fallen five times that distance… Who taught you that spell?"

Tristan didn't answer.

"Well?!" Snape snapped.

Tristan raised his wand, as the ropes fell away. "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand flew from his hand. His next actions shocked Tristan. Snape actually smiled and began laughing in his own dark sort of way.

Tristan looked around the room to see if there was some other cause for the laughter. There was none.

Snape cackled. "That was impressive, Bellwether."

 **Chapter 9: Christmas with the Malfoys**

When December finally rolled around, Tristan was relieved to be done with detentions. As much as he admired Snape for his strengths, Snape was a miserable person to be around with for longer than thirty minutes at a time. Yes, December brought new freedom, but Lisa threatened to increase Tristan's training because, as she put it, he seemed to be, "slacking on wand-work, since the detentions with Snape ended." Tristan assured her otherwise.

Truthfully, he had been sneaking off to the library in the late evenings to catch a word with Hermione, but she was hardly ever alone. Since the attack in the girl's lavatory, she had become fast friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Sometimes, he would sit there in the library wishing he could tell her all he was learning.

December also brought a more competitive fervor for a wizarding game known as Quidditch. A game played high in the air on broom sticks. Tristan had heard of the sport before coming to Hogwarts but never built up much of a liking for it. Draco had dragged him to the first game of the season last month, where shockingly Slytherin lost because Harry nearly swallowed the golden snitch, a small winged golden ball worth 150 points. Catching the snitch also ended the game. Draco was so angry with how that game hand ended, that Tristan found he avoided the Quidditch pitch whenever games were going on. Slytherin won a lot of matches in December, though, and he could hardly be in the Slytherin common room without hearing blather about how great of a captain Marcus Flint was.

On one particular evening, Tristan was sitting by the fireplace reading a book on the history of wands, when he could no longer block out the noise of Marcus Flint congratulating himself for beating a Hufflepuff up-and-comer named Cedrick Diggory.

"Diggory gave you a good fight, ay Marcus?" a deep voiced boy joked.

"He was okay. Those fancy flying moves mean nothing on that old broom of his." Marcus replied.

The boys both laughed loudly, as did the crowd of almost 20 other Slytherins.

Tristan grunted in frustration and headed out of the common room. It was afterhours and he wasn't technically allowed to be out of the common room this late, but he was feeling quite restless.

He found himself unconsciously wandering towards the third-floor corridor, before he heard a loud crash. He slowed his steps and tiptoed to the bend in the corridor, cautiously peering around the corner. Peeves, a malevolent poltergeist at Hogwarts, was there harassing the portraits and threatening to turn them all upside down. One painting lay on the floor below his translucent feet.

Tristan turned back and opted to find somewhere else to go.

"Hey Dez." He said aloud.

Instantly the bronze skinned boy appeared at his side. "You rang?"

"Is there a spell to thwart ghosts and the like? I mean if they're attached to this world, then in some way there's got to be something in this world that affects them, right?"

"You are correct, but the magic for that spell is beyond your aptitude at the moment." Dez answered plainly.

Tristan sighed and secretly wondered to himself when he would be ready for more advanced spells. Up until now, he had been learning simple elemental charms, basic defensive magic, and fewer than a dozen jinxes that would be helpful in a duel.

He reached a split in the corridor and turned right.

"Was there anything else?" Dez asked.

"Yeah, I'm a bit bored actually."

"I am not an 11-year-old Hogwarts student that enjoys idle chatter." Dez retorted irritably.

Tristan studied the face of the young boy walking beside him. "Maybe if we got to know each other, we'd make a better team."

"A team?" Dez laughed. "I am here to serve you, but I am not here to be your friend."

Tristan ignored this last statement. "Have you ever been to Hogwarts before?"

"Once, a long time ago," Dez answered solemnly.

Tristan looked over at Dez again who continued to stare straight ahead as he walked.

"How do you always know what's going on, even when the danger isn't close?"

"I can see farther than you. My vision is not hindered by walls, not even these magic ones. Speaking of which… walk faster. There's a cat that senses your presence and he's headed this way."

"Bollocks!" Tristan to off at a run, losing track of where he was. Before he knew it, he found himself close to the astronomy tower, the tallest point at Hogwarts. As the name suggests, he had his midnight astronomy lessons at the astronomy tower. Whoever thought, it was brilliant to keep students up until one in the morning was absolutely mental. He found that on days he was particularly exhausted, trying to stay awake till his midnight lesson proved difficult.

He climbed up the staircase to the tower and the first thing he noticed was a steady whisper. He wondered if he had stumbled upon a lesson in session, but he remembered that it was only about half ten, so the tower should still have been empty. When he reached the top of the staircase, he creeped his way inside. There, sitting dangerously within the frame of the glassless stone window, was none other than Lisa Turpin. She had a small owl in her hands, and she was whispering in its ear. She held the owl delicately, showing a compassion that he had never seen her show before.

"So, this is where you go at night." Tristan joked.

Lisa was startled and almost fell from the window. The owl leapt from her hands as she steadied herself on the window seal.

She swung her legs back inside the castle and scowled at Tristan. "Bloody hell! You almost killed me!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you! I was surprised to see you, that's all!" He bowed his head apologetically and noticed a small notebook next to her.

Lisa followed his eyes and quickly grabbed her notebook and stuffed it into her robes.

"Leave me alone, Tristan." Lisa said, flatly.

"She's hiding something." Tristan had forgotten that Dez was still with him; he had gotten so used to him disappearing when he was no longer needed.

"Were you working on school work?" Tristan asked.

"No. You wouldn't understand, Tristan." She shot back. She continued before Tristan could defend himself. "We should plan to make our journey into the Forbidden Forest over Christmas holiday. I was thinking we would wait until you learned more elf-magic or at minimum how to apparate within school grounds, but what just happened here proves why time is of the essence."

"Fine." Tristan replied coldly. "It's good seeing you too." He turned and left the tower.

The following morning, Tristan sat eating breakfast at the Slytherin table by himself. He had skipped his morning workout session with Lisa, and she was eying him angrily from across the Great Hall. She was eating oatmeal as it dripped down her chin. She had not broken eye contact with Tristan, thus she kept missing her mouth. Finally, after her shirt got messy enough, a Ravenclaw nearby nudged her. Tristan finished his eggs and bacon and hurried out of the Great Hall while she was distracted.

Draco caught up to him as he was walking out.

"Alright there, mate?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, alright." Tristan responded.

Draco seemed a bit nervous to broach the subject. "Here's the thing… Since, well… you know, your parents died… My family wants you to spend the holiday with us."

The surprise invitation threw Tristan off and he didn't speak for a few moments. In that time, he thought about Bimpy, Leally, and, oh right, the plan to go into the Forbidden Forest. He grimaced unconsciously.

Tristan spoke. "I'm honoured that your family would invite me, but I can't."

"My mom said you might say this, and I guess she wants you to know that they're going to be petitioning the ministry for 'guardianship' over you. So, this only works if we can prove that this isn't a scam to keep you out of Azkaban but an actual attempt to make you part of the family." Malfoy's cheeks turned red as he spoke.

Tristan also felt uncomfortable having this conversation about potentially becoming brothers with Draco. He wanted to wrap this conversation up as quickly as possible.

"Right then. I guess I'll be seeing you for Christmas." Tristan said sharply.

Draco nodded and then raced off in a different direction than Tristan, even though they had the next lesson together.

Tristan caught a glimpse of Lisa standing in the doorway of the Great Hall before he hurried off. He had a sneaking suspicion that she overheard his conversation with Draco.

Tristan avoided Lisa for the next few days. When Professor Snape asked the students to write their names on a list if they would be staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday, Tristan felt a pang of guilt in his stomach when he did not write his name down. In fact, he didn't speak to Lisa again until the morning of the first heavy snowfall. He sat there at Slytherin table stuffing himself with toast when Lisa came lumbering into the Great Hall covered in snow from head to toe. She stormed over to Slytherin table, which alarmed most of the Slytherin students, who at first thought she was a walking snowman, but then recognized that she was a Ravenclaw first year that had the audacity to come to their table. She came right up to Tristan and sat next to him. At this, many students in the Great Hall turned to stare at the girl bold enough to sit at another house's table. The older Slytherin students seemed particularly upset.

Lisa gauged the temperature in the room and roughly grabbed Tristan's sleeve and pulled him in close. "I need to have a word with you. Now."

Tristan was embarrassed by the numerous onlookers, so he followed Lisa when she got up from the table and left the Great Hall. When they were far enough from prying eyes, she turned on him.

"Where have you been?!" she asked angrily.

Tristan had no answer for this. He stared blankly at a smudge on the far wall.

"I counted on you! I have been showing up every morning for our training and waiting there for you! I trusted you and you let me down! You abandoned me!" she was yelling now, and tears were threatening to form in her eyes. "This is important to me Tristan, and I don't think you care. I need this to work."

"Why what is so important about that forest?!" Tristan yelled back at her.

"Ugh! You don't get it! I have to fix things! I have to change how things are!" Lisa was pulling at her own hair now. When she closed her eyes, tears poured down her cheeks.

"How what things are? What do you want that's in there?" He asked again.

Snot from her nose was running down over her lips and into her mouth as she spoke. "How? How? It makes no sense that two words, no matter how lazily spoken can kill us. How can I fix it?!" She stared through Tristan. "I have to find the cure for death!"

Lisa began sobbing loudly, and Tristan didn't know what else to do but pull her into a hug. She hugged him back and her tears soaked his shirt.

"I'll help you. We can't go on Christmas holiday, but if you'll trust me, I think my dad may have some research that could help us." Tristan explained sympathetically. "You have to do one thing for me though, you have to leave for the holiday. I can't come and go as a please here because the apparition barrier here is too strong."

Lisa nodded.

And just like that, they were friends once again.

When winter break finally came around Tristan helped Lisa drag her luggage onto the Hogwarts Express. He had only his backpack to contend with because that was pretty much all he had with him when he was whisked away to Hogwarts.

They grabbed a carriage by themselves, but were shortly joined by Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. It was a tight fit and Draco decided that Crabbe would have to find another carriage. Draco sat directly across from Lisa. She was not intimidated by him, as many students were, and she locked eyes with him for a long while. He smirked and then looked out the window.

It was a quiet ride mostly. Draco and Goyle left on multiple occasions to "patrol the train" as they explained. Once Goyle returned with considerable shorter hair looking slightly rattled. He cursed under his breath about a "filthy mudblood."

When they arrived at King's Cross, the Hogwarts students were overwhelmed by the crowds of onlookers. Cameras flashed from every direction, and some of the students were blinded and tripped over one another. In all the commotion, he lost track of Lisa.

Draco and Tristan were greeted by Mr. Malfoy and a homely looking house elf named Dobby. He was short with a long nose and had the same large ears that were common to house elves. He snapped his fingers and their luggage disappeared, including Tristan's backpack. Mr. Malfoy instructed them that they would be going to Malfoy Manor by car. He pushed his way through the crowds of terrified members of the magical community.

"Is that him?" a rotund woman asked fearfully.

"Yeah, he looks just like his father!" A tall gangly woman with glasses replied.

Tristan was trying to keep up with Draco and his father, when a large hand grasped him in a vice-like grip. He turned and was surprised to see a blonde witch with jeweled, rhinestone studded spectacles, starring back at him. She wore her hair in blonde curls, she had penciled-on eyebrows, and a smile that revealed three gold teeth. Though her smile was deceptive, her heavy chiseled jawline gave no falsehood of kindness.

"Hello Tristan. The names Rita Skeeter. I just have a few questions to ask you for The Daily Prophet." She quickly explained.

Floating next to them was a small quill. Rita sucked on the tip of the feathered pin in her hand and set it upon the floating quill. It began to write on its own.

"So, Tristan, how were you able to hide from the magic community for so long?" Rita asked and before he was able to answer she continued her questioning. "Was this some sort of elaborate plan of your father? Is your father even really dead? Did you know that he was responsible for the deaths of over 100 people?"

Tristan was beginning to feel overwhelmed as the crowds closed in on him and the bright flashing lights began to become more numerous. He looked around in silence, eyeing the quill, which to his surprise had written:

"The dark evil eyes of the Dragon's son terrify onlookers. He has the same look as his deraigned father. He is speechless, but what is clear is his bloodlust."

"Bloodlust?!" he said out loud.

Before Rita could reply, a hand smacked the parchment from the air. It was Lucius, and he was angry.

"If you want to sensationalize a story, I suggest you write about that Potter boy!" He snarled.

Lucius motioned for Tristan to walk ahead of him. When they reached the car, Draco was seated there in the back seat. He acknowledged Tristan when he got in the car, but he didn't speak after that.

"The nerve of that woman!" Lucius spat out as he got into the front passenger seat. There was no one in the driver seat. "We almost missed our portkey."

Tristan didn't have time to ask what a portkey was before, he felt an odd sensation similar to apparating. The car was becoming smaller and smaller at a rate that perplexed his mind and then he wasn't, and then he was. The sleek black car popped back into existence in front of the ornate gates of a mansion, nearly twice the size of the one he had grown up in. A peacock pranced along the gate and bowed as Mr. Malfoy walked through them.

When they reached the front door, a woman, who Tristan could only assume was Draco's mother, was waiting there anxiously on the front patio. She had long blonde hair, a slender build, and thoughtful eyes. She wore a dark dress with white embroidery, and she stood tall. Mrs. Malfoy was beautiful but also fierce. She passively kissed Lucius on the cheek as he walked by her. She then took a brief look at Draco, embraced him, and kissed him on his forehead. Draco blushed as he entered the mansion.

When Tristan approached, Mrs. Malfoy studied him for a long time. She seemed afraid to speak. She nodded to him and motioned for him to come inside.

Tristan found that they had given him one of their many extra bedrooms. It was in a separate wing from the rooms Draco and his parents occupied. To his astonishment, the room was done up, much like his old room at Bellwether Manor. He wondered if they had met with Bimpy and discussed these arrangements.

He fell asleep that night in a bed that looked and felt quite like his own. These feeling left him feeling homesick. He missed Bimpy, Leally, and Cliona. He decided then, that as soon as the Malfoy's let their guard down he would go visit them once again. He knew that it would be dangerous, with the Ministry probably watching his old home closely.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Tristan awoke to the smell of a hearty breakfast. He followed the smell down to the main dining room area, where the Malfoys were already sitting waiting on the food. He sat down at the long table, facing Draco. The table was so long that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had to speak up to hear one another because they were sitting at opposite ends of the table.

Dolby came to the table awkwardly balancing many large silvery plates of food, but when Tristan attempted to help, Lucius screamed at Dolby causing him to almost drop the food he had prepared. Tristan felt bad for Dolby and angry at Mr. Malfoy for reprimanding him. Mrs. Malfoy stared at Tristan strangely, though she didn't speak.

After breakfast, she led them into a large room that was covered from top to bottom in Christmas decorations. Draco smiled in childlike wonder. Tristan too was impressed. There was an enormous tree with flashing green and silver bulbs floating around it, a moving diorama of Santa Clause's workshop, complete with house elves making toys, and the room had been bewitched to look as if there was snow falling indoors. The light snow vanished before hitting the floor. Draco rushed to grab one of the large presents underneath the tree.

"Not yet, Draco. Wait for Christmas morning." She said affectionately.

Draco was irritated but obeyed his mother.

"Narcissa, this is wonderful! Did you do this all yourself?" Lucius asked.

She smiled and nodded. "I wanted it to be a surprise for Draco. This is his first time away from home, so I wanted this Christmas to be special."

"Hey Tristan, you want to see something cool?" Draco shouted out.

"Sure." He replied simply.

"Follow me."

Tristan followed him up to his bedroom where Draco was happy to show him his collection of vintage and new broomsticks. It was clear, Lucius spared no expense when it came to buying Draco what he wanted. He also had signed photos from what Tristan assumed were famous Quidditch players, and a golden snitch frozen in a glass case.

"That's the golden snitch from the last Quidditch World Cup. My dad pulled some strings and got it for me." Draco said beaming. "I want to be a professional seeker one day."

He very well might be Tristan thought. He had flying lessons with Draco, and he was quite good at it. The only other student better than him, was Harry Potter. Tristan knew that this deeply angered Draco, that and the fact that Harry, a first year, got to not only play on the house team, but also have a broom at school.

Draco spent the next few hours showing Tristan all of the interesting collectors items his father had procurred while traveling. However, conversations with Draco tended to revolve around Draco, and Tristan grew tired listening to his stories about himself.

Tristan dozed off while sitting on Draco's bed and when he awoke, he found that Draco was gone. Instead, Dolby was there tidying up the large room. A thought popped into Tristan's mind.

"Pedir ci Edhellen?" he asked the house elf.

Dolby's already wide eyes went wider in disbelief.

"Henia ci Nin?" Tristan asked.

"Where did you learn our language? It is secret." Dolby replied in amazement.

" _Im anen ortaina na gobel Edhellen_ (I was raised by house elves)." Tristan answered, again in the house elf tongue.

This time Dolby responded in his native language. "Sir, I don't wish to get into any trouble with my master."

"You house elves should be masters of your own persons." Tristan shot back.

"But sir! You are going to get Dolby in trouble talking like this."

"They can't understand us, even if they were overhearing us." Tristan paused. "Can I ask you a question Dolby?"

"You just did, sir." Dolby laughed to himself. "What is it you would like to know?"

"Can you teach me some of your magic."

Dolby nearly screamed. He back away from Tristan quickly.

Tristan waved his left arm and one of Draco's wands flew across the room into his hand. Dolby gasped and looked as if he might faint.

"It's true what they say then. The Bellwethers truly are terrifying." Dolby muttered.

Tristan approached the elf and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "I'm not going to hurt you, or tell anyone about what you tell me, I just need to know a few spells to protect myself. Please. The elf code is to help another elf in need, if you can. I'm asking that you extend that code to me."

Dolby hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

At dinner later that day, Dolby did not look at or even acknowledge Tristan. He seemed afraid that he would be caught and punished by his master. Early that day he gave Tristan several elvish spells. Among which were, a spell for summoning an object that is far away, presuming you knew where it was, a spell somewhat similar to Protego except the energy from the attacker is sent back at them in a tidal wave of force, and also a spell to heal small wounds. Dolby explained to him, that there were few house elves that knew magic that would be useful in combat, because house elves are peaceful.

"Hurry up, the food is getting cold!" Lucius shouted at Dolby.

Tristan instinctively almost took up for Dolby, but Dolby met his eyes and was so terrified of this, that he nearly spilled hot soup on Mrs. Malfoy. Thankfully, she was paying little attention. She was flipping through a small photo album that she had sitting next to her plate.

When the food was finally served, the family ate in silence. Christmas music was playing quietly in the background and Tristan could feel Draco tapping his foot along with the music.

After dinner, Mr. Malfoy pulled Tristan aside to let him know that several family members would be coming to visit for Christmas, and that it would probably be best if he remained out of sight until they left. _The fewer questions, the better._

Tristan went off to his room happy to know that he would have Christmas day to with it as he pleased. Dolby warned him that apparating in and out of houses occupied by wizards was difficult, but Tristan could feel that the protection spells were nowhere near as powerful as the ones at Hogwarts.

That night, Tristan had difficulty sleeping. It wasn't until late in the day that he had realized that this was the place where his father had died. It made him uncomfortable being here. He had heard that sometimes when people die violent deaths, they become ghosts. He was happy that his father hadn't become one like the Bloody Barron, the ghost of Slytherin House, or Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor house, who experienced a beheading gone wrong. Tristan shivered.

There was a soft tap on his door. Tristan felt bad that he had made Dolby feel as if he needed to sneak around the manor now.

Tristan called out. "Look, I'm sorry-"

"Tristan." The voice of Mrs. Malfoy cut him off.

Mrs. Malfoy walked into the room. "I noticed that your light was on."

Mrs. Malfoy stood there in a shimmery green silk nightgown. Her long hair was tied back, and her pale shoulders were visible. She was barefoot and her toenails were painted emerald green. She was carrying the small photo album from dinner. She approached Tristan and sat at the foot of his bed.

Tristan was surprised that she was here. She hadn't said a word to him since he had come to stay at Malfoy manor.

"Merry Christmas, Tristan. I want you to have this." She held up the photo album for Tristan to see. These are photos that I haven't been able to part with since… Well, I want you to have them. They tell the story of… Your father and me. I knew him when he was your age, even before Lucius."

A tear fell from her eye.

"Please don't show this to Draco or Lucius. I wanted you to have this because it's the truth about your father. I don't want you hating him like so many others do. He was a good man."

She reached in the pocket of her nightgown and pulled out four glass vials of glowing silvery-white fluid.

"These are my memories of your father. There's a golden basin tucked away in our storage room. It's called a 'pensieve'. If you pour these memories in there, you'll be able to see him again."

Tristan was speechless. He couldn't move, let alone say anything. Mrs. Malfoy got up and surprised Tristan with a kiss on his forehead, as if he were her own son.

She walked to the door but turned back before leaving. "Oh, Tristan. I would advise you not look at those memories until you're ready to know the truth."

She walked out the room and closed the door behind her.

Tristan stared down at the photo album. He opened the first page and saw a picture of his father, around his same age. This picture, as most magical pictures tended to do, was moving. Martin was laughing, lying in the grass next to Narcissa and another dark-haired girl with heavy-lidded eyes. Narcissa had short hair that barely went past her ears. The dark-haired girl was not smiling but was looking over at Martin and Narcissa irritably.

Tristan continued to stare at the laughing picture of his father, and he was unconscious of the fact that he had begun crying. He dropped the album to wipe his eyes. The album fell open to a random photo in the middle of the book. Tristan looked down and his jaw dropped.

There he saw Narcissa and Martin dressed in very formal attire and they looked to be about seventeen. In the background was a large sign that read "THE UNITED WIZARDS ORCHESTRA OF ENGLAND." This whole evening had been a surprise to Tristan, but nothing compared the utter shock of seeing his father and Mrs. Malfoy furiously kissing. The caption read, "Cissy and Marty 4ever."


	4. Chapter 10-14

**Chapter 10: Homeward bound**

The next morning, Tristan awoke, to the sound of dozens of voices permeating Malfoy Manor. Tristan lay there staring at the ceiling, his brain still spinning from the discovery that his father and Mrs. Malfoy had previously had some sort of romantic involvement. He was sure that this was why his father decided to protect her, an act which cost him his life.

He rolled over in his bed, when he heard a faint tap on his bedroom door.

"Come in." he called out softly.

Dolby made his way into the room with a tray of eggs, bacon, and blood pudding, as well as a tall glace of pumpkin juice. He set the tray down on the edge of the bed, and with his now free hands he summoned a small, round wooden table on which Tristan could eat. He carried the tray of food to the table and gave Tristan a warm smile.

"Happy Christmas," the elf said as he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Tristan nearly shouted. "I need one more favor from you."

Dolby began to look nervous. Nevertheless, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"I've been meaning to apparate to my home… My _real_ home, but I'm not quite sure how far away one can apparate."

"This is not a topic Dolby is familiar with, sir. All Dolby knows is that wizards can apparate quite far. To different cities in Britain and some wizards have been known to travel as far as Paris." Dolby answered.

"I see." Tristan was slightly disappointed though he tried not to let Dolby read that on his face. "Thanks any way, Dolby."

Dolby nodded suspiciously. "At your age, you should be very careful, sir. Most wizard dwelling are having protections."

Tristan jumped in excitement. "How do you get past these protections, Dolby?"

Dolby looked around the room sheepishly, afraid that he might be saying too much. At last his big round eyes settled on Tristan. "I suppose apparating is like fishing, sir. Except instead of bringing the fish to you, you bring yourself to the fish, if you get my meaning."

"Wait, so what's the fish?" Tristan asked.

"The place you is looking to go." Dolby answered.

"And what is the fishing line?"

"That's an easy one! It's your magic." Dolby smiled.

"So, what stops me from going to any place I want to go?"

"There is some places that is needing more protecting, sir. You wants to reach the fish, but there's a net protecting the water!" Dolby exclaimed in excitement. He seemed to be thrilled at his own wit in creating a metaphor on the spot.

"Well, how do I get through the net?"

"You don't. Why would you be wanting to?" Dolby gasped.

"I'm just curious." Tristan paused. "Is there a way to hit a 'net" with so much force that it tears?"

"Mr. Bellwether, sir, you is wanting to do something very dangerous!"

"These are just theories." Tristan lied, unable to meet Dolby's eyes. He looked down, and it was as if he was seeing Dolby for the first time. "Dolby what happened to your hands?!"

The elves hands were heavily bandaged. "Dolby! What happened to you?!"

It was Dolby's turn to feel uncomfortable. He began to back out of the room in silence.

"Dolby!" Tristan shouted. "Who did this to you?"

Dolby murmured under his breath. "I is not a free elf sir, so I does my master commands." He left the room without another word.

Tristan remembered the stories that Bimpy told him about house elf enslavement, and he felt anger at the Malfoys for failing to see the humanity in all of magical kind. Frustrated he packed a bag of his things and crept his way out of the large manor. When he was in the back garden, far enough out of view of prying eyes. He focused all of his energy on one place. The way Tristan figured, apparition was like slingshotting yourself through space and time. He felt that familiar tug in the center of his torso, but instead of giving into it, he held it for far longer. Eventually the feeling became too hard to resist, and he let go. The familiar pull of apparition was magnified tenfold.

CRASH! Tristan flew headfirst into a wall. He looked up to see torn remains of a sports car printed on large laminated paper. He let out a yelp of pain as he grabbed his throbbing forehead. He could hear footsteps rapidly approaching. He turned his eyes on the door as Leally peaked inside, a terrified look on his face. He froze when he saw Tristan.

Apparently, Tristan had apparated with so much force that it was like being shot from a cannon. Upon apparating into his bedroom, the energy he had harnessed through him clear across his bedroom and into the wall. Even with a thundering headache, he was happy to see his brother Leally. Bimpy poked her head into the room after Leally. Tristan shouted in glee as the two elves ran to embrace him.

"Happy Christmas!" he shouted through clinched teeth.

After they exchanged pleasantries, Bimpy scolded Tristan for apparating on his own. She knew full well how dangerous it was and she emphasized this to Tristan. She also informed Tristan that the house was being watched by no less than three aurors at all times and that Leally would make sure to take him back to Malfoy Manor later that day.

Leally had been oddly quiet throughout all this time. He sat there with his head down in the kitchen, as Bimpy darted around, preparing lunch.

At last, Tristan turned to see what was wrong with him. He pointed and said, "You're awfully quiet. You alright?"

Leally nodded, tears beginning to stream down his large eyes. "I'm sorry, Tristan! If I had been there, I could have protected you!"

Bimpy stopped and looked over at him with pity.

Leally continued, "It was 'round the time you were starting your lessons at that muggle school, I saw a pretty house elf, and…" he couldn't continue. He dropped his head in his hand and sobbed.

Bimpy addressed Tristan. "Love you see. It'll be the death of us all. But what a good death it is." She smiled sadly at Tristan and went back to attending to preparing the meal.

Tristan tried his best to tell Leally that it was not his fault, but Leally sulked all the way through lunch. After lunch, Tristan went up to his room to plan out how he was going to see Cliona. He really wanted to visit her, but if what Bimpy had said was true, that they were being watched by aurors constantly, then it would be too dangerous for him to walk even the short distance to her house.

He decided that he would try apparating again. It occurred to him that this was a place that he had not been before, was probably highly secured after what happened to Cliona, and, well, he still wasn't very good at apparating yet. Naturally, he decided to give it a go anyway. He was unfamiliar with Cliona's house, but he remembered that she had pointed to her bedroom window once before while she was in his room.

He peered through his window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Like many of the homes in the small village, Cliona's house was large, old, and majestic. Though not as large as the Bellwether Manor, her house gave the allure of wealth and privilege. Tristan studied the house's intricate woodwork as he waited for a sign of Cliona. He had to wait for another hour before he saw a figure moving on the other side of a small window. He hoped upon hope that this would be enough information to properly apparate in the correct location.

This time, he decided that he needed even more force to break through whatever protective charms that would be in place around her house. He backed up all the way to the other end of his room, where there was a small dent in the wall, from his head making impact a couple hours early. He closed his eyes and felt himself gathering the energy he needed to apparate. He waited until he could feel that familiar pull and continued to hold onto that feeling until he could no longer contain the energy. With his eyes still closed, he ran full force towards his bedroom window. Crack!

He appeared in Cliona's bedroom and this time he had the mental awareness to brace for the speed that he would be reappearing at. He glided so effortlessly that he made it look cool. Cliona almost screamed but when she saw it was him, she could only manage to stare in shock.

He was amazed that his plan actually worked. And he gave her a coy smile to emphasize how easy it was for him to apparate here.

When she continued to look at him in shock. He said, "It's me. Tristan!"

"Your arm." She murmured.

Tristan followed her eyes and looked down at his left arm… or what had been his left arm. Just below his shoulder there was nothing but a bloody stump.

Just then there was a large crack and Leally appeared holding… Tristan's left arm.

Tristan looked at his detached arm, then at Leally, back up at Cliona again, and then back down at his arm.

"Well, that was unexpected." He whispered casually and then fainted.

Tristan awoke to the smell of flowers. He was uncomfortably aware that he was not in his own bed. The purple and white sheets were unfamiliar to him, but the scent was unmistakable. It was the scent of tulips. The same scent that he had so often associated with Cliona. He looked up to see Bimpy and Leally standing over him. Bimpy was focusing on a spell and her hands were hovering over a glowing ball of light. He realized that the light was encompassing his left arm and that, to his relief, his left arm had been reattached. He had yet to regain feeling in it though.

A worried woman walked up behind Bimpy and handed her bandages. Bimpy delicately wrapped Tristan's arm and it was as if the bandages came to life. They tightened as if they were his own skin.

When Bimpy finished, Tristan was beginning to get some feeling back in his elbow but nothing else.

Bimpy bowed to the worried woman, Mrs. Cobberly, and thanked her for her help.

When Mrs. Cobberly spoke, her voice was calm and gentle. "I think we ought to give the children sometime alone."

Bimpy nodded, and the trio of her, Leally, and Mrs. Cobberly walked out of the room.

Cliona was the first to speak, "Hey, Tristan. I figured after saving my life, you wouldn't be risking yours anymore."

"Well, I wasn't trying to. I was _trying_ come see you without getting caught by the aurors."

She blushed. "I can still come see you, you know. I've been coming over a couple of times a week to visit your family and… Bonnie."

Tristan started to sit up, but Cliona was close enough to stop him from sitting all the way up.

"I don't think you should be moving much just yet." She said.

"You really hit it off with that boggart?" Tristan asked.

"Her name is Bonnie, and yes. She's very sweet. I can see why your father kept her."

Tristan sighed. "I suppose I should try to make friends with her as well." He changed the subject. "So, what have I been missing at school?"

Cliona gave a fake gasp. "You really care about muggle schools, when you're at Hogwarts?" She smiled. "You're a strange one, Tristan Bellwether."

"Trust me, I know." He smiled back at her. "Are they treating you well?"

"Actually, yes. After you left, John started being nicer to me. I've also been making loads of friends. All and all, muggle school is really not that bad."

"I'm glad to hear things are going well for you, although I'd be careful of trusting, John."

"What about you?" Cliona asked. "How's magic school?!"

Cliona seemed genuinely excited to hear tales from Hogwarts, and he didn't want to disappoint her with his experiences, so he decided to talk mostly about Hermione and Lisa. This, however, turned out to be a mistake because Cliona's face began to turn redder the more Tristan spoke about Lisa and how they had been working together.

"So, you're going on a secret adventure with her?" Cliona practically yelled.

"Shhh. Keep your voice down, Cliona!" Tristan begged.

"She doesn't sound like someone you can trust, and I don't like the fact that she has you risking your life again!"

Tristan slapped his forehead in frustration. "It's not like that. It's just a small mission to find a lost treasure."

"Treasure?" Cliona raised her voice again.

Tristan tried to warn her to again to quiet down, but the door to the bedroom creaked open and Bimpy came in with Leally and Mrs. Cobberly.

"Tristan, we should get going," she said. "Thank you for your hospitality." She turned and gave Tristan a stern look. "Without you, I'm not sure what would have happened to him."

"It was no problem. Without your son, we may have lost our daughter." Mrs. Cobberly replied.

Bimpy waved and then grasped tightly onto Tristan's arm. Within an instant, he was back in his bed at Malfoy Manor.

Tristan could tell that Bimpy wanted to scold him, but said she only two words, "be safe." With that, she vanished on the spot with a loud crack.

Tristan pushed himself up into a sitting position with his good arm. He reached under his pillow for the photo album that Mrs. Malfoy had given him.

Dez appeared on the other side of him, causing Tristan to jump in surprise. It had been so long since they had spoken, that Tristan nearly forgot about him. Dez wore an angry expression and Tristan could tell that he was about to be scolded.

"What you did was completely and utterly stupid!" Dez began. "You hit those protective charms with so much force that it tore your arm off! Had I not held you together, you would have been blown into pieces! Is that what you wanted?"

Tristan set the photo album down and faced Dez quietly.

"You would have bled to death, had Leally not been there waiting outside your bedroom door! It seems his intuition was right!" Dez stared at Tristan again waiting for a response. "If you die, that means I get left alone again, which might not mean anything to you, but it does to me!"

Tristan looked Dez in his eyes. "I saw it."

"Are you listening to me, Tristan?" Dez shouted, frustrated.

"I saw the protection spells. Like you would see any other spell. Instead of losing consciousness when I apparated, I focused. I perceived where I was going… and I saw the spells. Dolby was right it was like a net, multiple nets… or layers of spider webs! I think the key is to slow down, not to speed up. If I do that, I should be able to navigate my way through them without being injured."

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!" Dez screamed. "YOU ARE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED IF YOU KEEP THIS UP!"

"Then help me. Help me see the charms more clearly." Tristan implored.

Dez angrily turned on the spot and vanished.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. The door opened and Mrs. Malfoy peaked inside. She walked inside when she saw that Tristan was awake. She gave him a large smile.

"Happy Christmas again, Tristan. I hope you didn't find your day to be too boring. Sorry about that. We wanted to avoid any unnecessary questions. They fewer people that—"

Mrs. Malfoy paused in horror and stifled a scream. Her eyes were as large as saucers. She pointed at Tristan's left arm.

Up to this point, Tristan hadn't stopped to look at his arm, so he hadn't realized how bad his injury was. Now that his bandages were soaked through with blood, he could see that his arm almost looked as if it belonged to someone else. His reattached arm was markedly different in skin tone than the rest of his body. There were remnants of the rough jagged tear marks that could be seen through his bandages. Furthermore, his veins in his left arm were pulsating and deep blue in color.

Mrs. Malfoy ran over to him. She checked his wounds carefully and sighed in relief.

"Whoever dressed these wounds was very skilled. You're lucky." She pulled out her wand and summoned a cleaner set of bandages. "What happened, Tristan?"

She waved her arm and the old bandages fell off. Mrs. Malfoy looked even more disturbed when she saw the full extent of Tristan's injuries. She pointed her wand and whispered a spell under her breath and the bleeding stopped instantly. She waved her arm again and the newer, cleaner bandages snaked their way up his limp arm.

"Your father was a lot like you. Always getting himself injured to the point where I was worried I would lose him." She paused. "I used to dress his wounds. All of them. If I had known any better, I'd say that you got splinched, but these cuts look too rough around the edges. One thing that's clear though, is that there's magic behind those injuries. Still, I'm not sure how you're able to perform magic without alerting the Ministry of Magic due to the restriction of underage wizardry. Perhaps you went to the dwelling of another wizard and your presence was masked." She locked eyes with Tristan.

Tristan sat there silently. Unsure of whether to tell Mrs. Malfoy anything.

"You have your father's talents but not your father's wisdom." She said sternly. "I hope one day, you will trust me with your secrets."

She kissed him on the forehead and left the room.

The next morning Tristan woke up having regained the feeling in his left arm, the bad news though was that it was throbbing in excruciating pain. Furthermore, he could only move two of his fingers and even then, only slightly. Mrs. Malfoy had left a sling for his arm, at the foot of his bed, after showering, he spent nearly an hour trying to get dressed with one arm. At one point, he caught a glimpse of himself in the tall, free standing mirror that stood in the corner of the room. He could see fresh wounds all over his arms and chest. The words of Dez echoed in his mind: _Had I not held you together, you would have been blown into pieces!_ He hated that he worried everyone, but apparating was his only option and he would have to try it again.

As he prepared to depart for the day, he heard a loud crack behind him, and he turned to see Leally standing on his bed.

"Leally! What are you doing here?" Tristan asked surprised.

"Well… Bimpy was getting the feeling that you were going to try apparating again, and she was worried you might kill yourself this time." Leally looked away. "I agreed."

Tristan thought he could hear laughing coming from the pocket that held his wand.

"I will be taking you to Bellwether Manor, if that's where you're choosing to go." Leally smiled as he leaped from the bed and held out a hand. "Are you ready?"

"Wait. Actually, I was hoping to go to a home in Westminster." Tristan replied hesitantly.

"I'm not very familiar with London, but isn't that meant to be pretty dodgy?" Leally asked surprised.

"Yeah, but I need to speak with a girl from my school. She lives in a foster home there. I was hoping to bring her back home with me."

"I can go get her after I take you—" Leally was cut off by Tristan.

"Well here's the thing!" Tristan interjected. "Apparently, there's a trace thingy which tracks our magic so I'm guessing she can't be around anyone doing magic." He explained to Leally, who was looking more and more confused.

"But you used magic all day yesterday?" Leally shot back, incredulous.

"Yeah… about that. Apparently, I'm a little different." Tristan replied.

Tristan spent 15 minutes trying to explain this concept to Leally, who was looking at him with greater and greater skepticism. They spent another 30 minutes arguing how best to transport a person without him or Leally using magic. It wasn't until Dolby came in with breakfast, looking even more battered and bruised than before, that a plan was finally formed.

Dolby, seemed to have a wider expanse of knowledge about wizard's magic, and he suggested that the two of them use a portkey. Tristan kept hearing that word but wasn't quite sure what it was. However, to his relief, Dolby explained that portkey was an object enchanted to apparated a person from one place to another, usually upon a set schedule.

Tristan thanked Dolby, who was now standing side by side with Leally. The difference between the two was stark. Where Leally wore tiny forest green chaps with a forest green vest and brown moccasins, Dolby wore a potato sack and was barefoot. Tristan had noticed how wealthy the Malfoy family was, yet how homely Dolby looked before, but he chose to say nothing. However, the more bruises he saw on the elf, the angrier it made him.

Dolby noticed that both Tristan and Leally were examining him. Feeling embarrassed by the sudden turn of events, he ran out of the room.

Tristan finished his breakfast and then he and Leally set off.

As it turns out, making a portkey was not the most difficult part of the plan. Leally apparated Tristan as close to Lisa's foster home as he dared. Leally, being a house elf, was forced to hide for the time being, lest he be seen by muggles. Tristan walked the rest of the way on his own.

Tristan approached a narrow gray house that had rotting wooden steps leading up to a porch covered in spider webs. He knocked loudly and after some time, a tall middle-aged woman with a sunken face and disheveled dark hair answered the door. She looked straight ahead over Tristan and out into the open street, presumably expecting to see an adult. She was alarmed when she saw 11-year-old Tristan standing there.

"Sorry, lad. I don't do runaways. Can't afford the kids they've given to me now." The woman said lazily. She picked in her nose and then whipped it on her shirt.

"I'm not a runaway, ma'am. I'm here to see Lisa." Tristan clarified.

"Who?" The woman shot back. Confusion on her face.

"Lisa Turpin."

"Oh! Twerp! The girl who goes to that weird school." The woman answered. She called out over her shoulder. "Twerp! Twerp! There's a young lad here to see you."

A group of dirty, mangey looking boys around the same age as each other ran to the door.

"She ain't here. Don't know where she's gone off to now." One of them shouted out gleefully.

"Well, there you have it." The woman gave Tristan a curt smile and shut the door.

Instead of leaving, Tristan took a seat on the top step of the porch, hoping to catch her when she returned. He must have been sitting there for hours before he heard a loud explosion coming from inside the house and smoke began billowing from an open window on the top floor. Tristan, worried that those strange people were doing something to Lisa, lunged at the front door which to his surprise wasn't locked. The door swung open to reveal an untidy home with old dilapidated furniture and walls stained with grime.

Tristan ran till he found a rickety staircase and he looked up to see eight children of varying ages and various states of filth staring up at the ceiling which was enveloped in smoke. As he climbed the stairs he could see that they were looking up into what appeared to be an attic.

Lisa climbed out from the smoke, coughing and wheezing. Most of the children were laughing, but the oldest of them was not amused.

"Twerp!" he shouted. He grabbed her by her hair and dragged her over to the woman who Tristan had spoken to early.

The lady slapped Lisa across the face. "What have you been doing? Trying to blow us all up again?"

Lisa grimaced as the boy's grip tightened on her hair.

"No ma'am. I was just working on a new experiment that-"

Lisa's words were cut off as she was smacked again.

Tristan had seen enough. He ran into the circle of children, hoping to cause a bit of confusion. Instead, the other children started up laughing again.

"Ain't you too young to have a boyfriend, Twerp?" a boy with greasy red hair asked.

Tristan was slightly embarrassed; nevertheless, he faced the tall boy who was pulling on Lisa's hair. He reached for his wand and smacked the boy's wrist with the butt end of it. The boy winced in momentary pain, releasing Lisa. Tristan grabbed her by the hand and ran out of the house.

When they had gotten far enough away, Tristan turned to face Lisa. Though her face was beginning to bruise where she had been smacked, she was laughing hysterically.

"They said we couldn't do magic outside of Hogwarts. Turns out we can still do potions!" she continued to laugh.

Tristan was about to speak but realized that they were still tightly holding hands. It seemed Lisa realized this at the same time he did, and they quickly broke apart and looked away in silence.

"Tristan!"

Tristan turned at the sound of his name. Someone was calling his name from somewhere within the narrow space between two houses. He approached cautiously and was relieved when he saw that it was Leally.

"What took you so long?!" The elf shouted.

Lisa answered, unfazed at the sight of the house elf. "I was hiding away in the attic conducting an experiment. I've built my own potions laboratory, you know!"

She seemed excited to tell them more about her lab, but Leally reminded them that the portkey had already been set and reset several times because they kept missing it. A rotting banana peel lay before them on the ground.

"What time does the next portkey leave?" Tristan asked.

"In 30 seconds." Leally replied irritably. He pointed to the banana peel.

Lisa and Tristan stared back at him confused.

"Well." Leally began. "Take hold of it."

Lisa bent down to pick it up, looking disgusted. She held it out to Tristan, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"It's ok. I'll apparate on my own." He assured her.

"No, you will not!" Leally corrected him.

The banana peel began to glow with a faint light. Tristan hesitantly took hold of the wet, squishy banana peal. He looked away disgusted. The next second he felt the familiar tug of apparition, except it was pulling him towards the banana and not within himself.

Within an instant, he was inside the hallway of Bellwether Manor. He heard footsteps running through the kitchen, headed for them. Cliona came into to view and rushed him, wrapping her arm around him.

"Tristan, I'm so glad you're okay!" she shouted.

He felt a sharp poke in his shoulder. Lisa's nails were digging into the shoulder of his injured arm. He turned to see that she had her other hand over her mouth as if she was trying her hardest not to vomit.

"Do… you have… a rubbish bin?" she asked through dry heaves.

Tristan pointed towards the kitchen just as the sound of a loud crack came from that direction.

Lisa took off running and collided with Leally as he stepped out from kitchen. She vomited all over him.

The little elf stood there looking miserable as lime green puke dripped from his clothes. Leally had the look on his face as if his day could not possibly get any worse. He stormed down the long hallway, leaving a trail of vomit in his wake.

"I'm guessing that was your first time. Don't worry, it gets easier." Tristan said.

Bimpy came out from the kitchen with a towel as large as herself. She greeted Lisa and then began to wipe of the vomit from the floor.

"I've prepared food for you all, if you'd like to come into the kitchen." She motioned for them to head into the kitchen.

Lisa began to follow Tristan, but was staring at Cliona suspiciously. There was a hint of irritation behind her eyes. She looked as if she may say something rude, but Tristan intervened.

"Lisa, this is Cliona. We went to school together before I was sent to Hogwarts." Tristan explained.

Cliona reached out her hand but Lisa didn't take it.

"Is she a muggle?" Lisa snapped at Tristan.

"I'm a squib actually." Cliona corrected her.

Lisa did not respond. The girls sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Their disdain for one another apparent on their faces.

When they had finished eating, Tristan led the two of them to the basement where his father's laboratory was located. When reached the door to the basement, Cliona ran in front of it and sprawled her hands out as if she were protecting the door.

"No, Tristan! I don't trust her!" Cliona shouted.

"You don't know her, yet." Tristan said with a sigh.

"Well… well, tell me more about your secret plan and then maybe I'll move." Cliona shot back.

Lisa was so stunned that Tristan had revealed her secret that her mouth fell wide open. She looked more hurt than angry and Tristan instantly felt a pang of guilt. He looked at Cliona imploringly, and she stepped away from the basement door.

He mouthed a sarcastic, "thank you" to her. She nudged her head as if to tell him to look behind him. He turned to see that Lisa was storming off. He ran after her and grasped her hand causing her to stop abruptly. He pulled her about face, but she looked away to hide her tears.

"You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" Lisa growled and then her voice fell into a soft whisper, "I trusted you."

"I may have mentioned something in a moment of extreme physical pain and mental fogginess but I think you're going to want to see what down in that basement." Tristan insisted.

"I'm not going anywhere with you! Take me home!" she shouted.

Tristan shushed her. "I thought you cared about the end goal, making it through the Forbidden Forest and finding your treasure. Sorry, but providing you with the right equipment will more than make up for my loose lips." He pulled her back towards the basement, but Lisa dragged her feet in protest.

"Leave me alone, Tristan!"

Tristan ignored her complaints and pushed open the door to the basement, pulling her through. He carefully guided her down the dark stairway and at the bottom stairs he reached out his hand and focused on fire. Nothing happened. Suddenly glass globes floating around the basement filled with flames that illuminated the room.

Tristan smiled to himself, but then turned to see that Cliona had lit a match, the light from which had multiplied and filled all of the floating glass bulbs around the basement with flame.

"All it takes is lighting a fire of any kind, and it's absorbed into all of the lanterns." She explained. Cliona pointed to Lisa. "She's crying again."

Indeed, Lisa had more tears streaming from her eyes than before. She had a maniacal smile across her face and her eyes were as wide with hunger. She ran over to Tristan, embracing him in a huge hug.

"Oh Tristan, it's beautiful!" she yelled.

Out of nowhere, a boy appeared walking briskly through the aisles of the laboratory. He moved along as if he was familiar with the setting. Tristan recognized the boy as Lisa's eldest foster brother. He had a mean look on his face and Lisa sunk back in fear as the boy raised his fist.

"Stop that, Bonnie!" Cliona yelled, and the boy vanished into purple smoke. "Sorry about that. I've been coming to visit her, but I think it takes a while for her to warm up to new people."

Floating before them, was a purple rabbit looking creature with a squirrel's tail and horn where a nose should be.

Lisa smiled down at creature, but Tristan could tell that she was still shaken up. She walked past the creature without further acknowledging it and began take mental inventory of all that was before her.

After several long moments, she shouted across the laboratory. "Tristan, do you realize that you have almost every ingredient to make any potion I ever heard of?" She didn't wait for a reply and began rummaging through some distant drawer.

Tristan followed the sound of Lisa opening and closing file cabinets, and Cliona was close at his side. Bonnie floated happily over her right shoulder.

"I come to visit her a lot." Cliona explained, when Tristan kept peering over at the two of them.

He shrugged.

When they reached Lisa, she was sitting on the floor of the basement with a large book opened up in front of her. She didn't look up when they approached her.

"So, I'm guessing you like the place?" he asked.

"It's an alchemist's dream!" she replied, still not looking up. "Tristan, this will make our journey into the Forbidden Forest so much easier!"

"It still sounds very dangerous!" Cliona interjected.

"It'll be fine." Lisa replied. "Tristan, is the most talented kid in our class."

"But he's still a kid, he can't go into a place called the _Forbidden Forest_ alone!" Cliona shot back.

"He won't be alone. I'll be with him." Lisa replied, still flipping through the book in front of her.

"No offense, but I don't know you or trust you! Tristan, saved my life and I'm not going to just let you lead him into a forest of death."

"Forbidden Forest, not forest of death." Lisa corrected her.

"Same thing!" Cliona shouted. "Well, I'm coming with you all then!"

Lisa finally looked up from her book angrily. "No, you are not!"

"Yes. I. Am." Cliona shot back.

As Cliona grew angrier, the boggart on her shoulder began to shapeshift again. Without warning, it had transformed itself into a full-grown Bengal tiger, and Lisa screamed and ran behind one of the many towering file cabinets.

"Tristan!" Lisa called out. "I don't like her and she's not welcome on our journey!"

Tristan was rooted to the spot in fear. He had never seen a tiger this close up and he could see its muscles rippling as it paced back and forth in front of Cliona. When he eventually willed himself to move, the tiger snarled, and he almost shrunk back in fear.

"Cliona, this is crazy. I can't ask you to risk your life with us. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you." He said, voice shaking.

"Well too bad, because that's how I feel about you! And if I can't go, I'm not letting her use this lab, Tristan."

Tristan looked at her and then the tiger. He knew it wasn't real and that chances were, there was nothing it could do to hurt him, but it still terrified him.

Tristan sighed, but before he could speak, Lisa waved a hand out from behind the file cabinet.

"Fine. She can come too." Lisa called out in a defeated tone.

Cliona relaxed and the tiger shrunk back into Bonnie's purple bunny-like form

For the remainder of winter break, Lisa, Cliona, and Tristan spent all of their free time in his father's laboratory. Lisa and Cliona never grew to be friends, but their hate for one another reasonably subsided. They even began to work together. Since Cliona couldn't use magic, Lisa came up with a clever way to allow her to use temporary spells. She found a book amongst Martin Bellwether's personal collection that detailed how to brew all manner of spells in special glass vials. The vials would be worn on a belt around Cliona's waist, for emergency situations only. Lisa also made Cliona a dark shatter proof bottle, that would allow her to carry Bonnie around with her.

With two days left of break, the trio continued with their daily routine of working in Tristan's father's laboratory around midday, but on that particular day, to Tristan's surprise, the lights were already on when they stepped into the basement. There was a loud rustling that could heard coming from some far corner.

"Hello?" Tristan asked.

Lisa pushed past Tristan and hurried down the stairs. "I have to protect my research!"

Without much time to think, Tristan ran after her. When he caught up to her, he was surprised to see that she was frozen in fear. No, it wasn't fear per say, but something even stronger. She stood there mid stride as if she had been frozen in place. Tristan looked ahead of her and saw a figure standing with his back to the large glass case holding that solitary dementor. It was a boy around the age of 14 or 15 and he was several inches taller than Tristan, with a thin yet muscular build. He had burnt caramel skin and wore a tight gray sweater with intricate designs on it which appeared to be runes. He wore small rectangular spectacles and he had long gray hair that was black at the roots and tied back into an afro ponytail. On his belt there were two very sharp, very deadly looking metallic boomerangs holstered separately on either side. He had a bored expression on his face as he threw jars and vials this way and that. No, he couldn't be throwing anything because both of his hands were in his pockets.

Tristan stared at him in aww as a small ornate purple pouch floated over to the boy gracefully. When it reached him, it settled next to his pocket and tied itself onto his belt loop.

"Hey! You can't take that!" Tristan heard himself blurting out without realizing he had done so.

The boy turned to Tristan irritably. Tristan felt a wave of force rush over him, and he couldn't move, not even a single muscle.

The boy spoke in a soft voice. "Thieves don't deserve to live, no matter how young or _inexperienced_ they may be."

Tristan struggled to talk, but he could only manage shallow breaths due to the incredible power of the force that invisibly held him.

One of the sharp metal boomerangs flew from its holster, spinning rapidly through the air and stopping centimeters away from his throat.

"Tell me. Who are you?" the grim boy asked disinterestedly.

The force eased around Tristan's throat and he gasped as he spoke short words, the constriction on his lungs still incredibly strong. "You're the thief! This is my father's lab and you have no right to steal from him."

The boy's gray eyes narrowed and anger swept across his face. "You lie! You're not Martin Bellwether. He died a long time ago. What is your name?"

"Martin was my father! I'm Tristan Bellwether!" he shot back.

It was the boy's turn to react in surprise, his tone now defensive. "The Master was missing something… something that was stolen from him. He didn't want to think that Martin would steal from him, but this was _his_ laboratory first, and Martin even took that."

"My father isn't a thief! You and this Master guy are liars and thieves." Tristan spat out.

"Oh really? You speak as if you're going to back up that tough talk of yours." The boy approached Tristan, disappointment washing over his face. "How could a child of Martin be so weak?"

"He's not weak!" A voice shot out from behind a row of lab equipment. Lisa defiantly stood up from where she had been hiding and faced the boy.

He smiled.

"Tristan is incredibly talented, and it's rotten luck that he keeps meeting psycho wizards like you and this _Master_ guy! If you're so powerful, how come you had to resort to magic tricks, huh? Why not fight him one on one?" Cliona asked angrily.

Tristan wasn't sure he wanted to fight the boy one on one. He was imagining how painful it would be should the boy command the wickedly sharp boomerang to slice his neck.

The boy opened his mouth, paused, perhaps to consider whether it was worth his effort to do so, then ultimately must have decided to remain measured in his response, because he spoke even softer when he replied. "Grandfather is the Master Alchemist, the greatest alchemist to ever live. Yes, even greater than Nicholas Flamel. Please, show respect when you speak of him." He looked away from Lisa and directly at Tristan. "I won't fight you one on one… I don't wish to hurt you, brother. Our grandfather may have great use for you." He cleared his throat and addressed Cliona. "And… I'm a squib so stop calling me a wizard."

With that, he called his boomerang back to him, turned on the spot and vanished without so much as sound.

Tristan instantly felt the pressure release from him, and he could move again. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Lisa drop to her knees, violently gasping for air.

Lisa spoke through gasps and heaves. "He *gasp* took *gasp* the underworld petals! Said to be brought back *gasp* by the only wizard to cross over to the other side *gulp* and return."

"He?! You mean Tristan's brother?" Cliona asked in almost a panic. "Guys, what is going on here?"

Tristan stared silently at the lone dementor floating unconsciously in the glass sphere, sure that he had seen its fingers twitch. A chill went up his spine and her turned away, locking eyes with Cliona. "I'm starting to think I'm cursed."

All in all, it was a productive winter break, and by the time the break was over, Tristan's arm had fully healed, save for a jagged ring of discolored skin where his arm had been re-attached. Draco found the scar to be awesome, but Tristan preferred to keep it hidden because it made for an awkward conversation whenever he saw him. Although he didn't dislike Draco, he preferred not to have prolonged conversation with him. He was aided by the fact that Draco spent the bulk of his time during winter break playing quidditch with his friends from school. He would say to anyone that would listen, "I'm going to be on the Slytherin House Team next year," and that "Potter better watch out!"

On his final night at Malfoy Manor, Tristan sat on his bed staring out of the large bedroom window. He heard a gentle knock on the door, and then Mrs. Malfoy came into the room, a dark cloak draped over her arm. She sat next to Tristan and rolled up his sleeve to exam his arm. This was her routine every night, and she was even better at healing magic than Bimpy.

"It should have fully healed by now." She clicked her tongue. "I'm afraid it's going to leave a scar. This was no ordinary spell that hit you. Only dark magic leaves scars, but then again… if it were dark magic, then your arm shouldn't have been able to be re-attached at all. This is curious indeed."

When she finished checking on Tristan's arm, she rolled down his sleeve and kissed him on the forehead. Tristan blushed, he had still not become used to this.

"I wouldn't advice you going around showing people that scar. It would raise more questions. Questions that need not be asked." She walked to the door. "Goodnight, Tristan."

"Mrs. Malfoy! You forgot your cloak."

"It's not mine. I was selfishly keeping it because it's all that I had left of him. It rightfully belongs to you, so I think you should keep it."

Tristan stared at the cloak that appeared to made of thick leather. Mrs. Malfoy smiled gently to herself.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Malfoy." He said as she left the room.

 **Chapter 11: This Time Now or Not at All**

Tristan and Lisa sat in silence on their way back to Hogwarts. They again shared a compartment with Draco who was talking non-stop for the duration of the train ride. Tristan was trying his hardest tune him out as his mind was preoccupied with this boy who purported to be his brother, but Draco continued to put the focus on Tristan as he waved down multiple Slytherins and begged Tristan to show them his scar. When he finally gave in and rolled up his sleeve, the Slytherin onlookers audibly gasped.

Lisa appeared completely oblivious to the commotion, perhaps because she grew up in a home with so many children. She sat hunched over rapidly scribbling notes in her potions journal. Her shorthand looked like runes, and Tristan was pretty sure she did this as a means of encrypting her notes.

Tristan was relieved when they arrived back at Hogwarts. He was beginning to feel like a circus freak with all of the Slytherins gawking at his wound. Little did they know that he had at least a dozen discolored scars all over his body.

When they arrived, he waited for the rest of the Hogwarts students to depart from the train and sat there in silence for a while alongside Lisa. She finally looked up and was alarmed to see that the train was empty.

"Oh, where did everybody go? To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention!"

She grabbed her bags and with a smile turned to depart, waiting momentarily for Tristan, and the two left the train together.

Lisa was finally comfortable being seen around Tristan, and ignored the loud whispers carrying around the halls of the castle. They reached the top of the staircase that turned off into a corridor that lead to the secret passageway to Ravenclaw House and Lisa hugged Tristan tightly.

"Thank you! I was really dreading this winter break, but you made it one of the most wonderful times that I've had in a long while." She smiled and headed off down the passageway.

A Ravenclaw boy, bumped him without excusing himself as Tristan turned to head to his own common room. Tristan ignored this almost entirely. He no longer feared the Ravenclaw students. His countless hours of training had brought him an unfaltering self-esteem.

The following months at Hogwarts proved to be much less of an adjustment for Tristan. He began to excel in his classes and became very popular amongst the Slytherins and many of the Hufflepuffs took a liking to him. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley befriended him even to the point of asking him for help with their assignments. What was most surprising to Tristan, however; was that a second year Gryffindor by the name Cormac Mclaggen actually spoke to him, complimenting him based on the rumors of his astounding magical aptitude.

As time passed, even Hermione had a hard time ignoring Tristan's academic success. Her marks were rivaled only by Tristan's, and he learned of her highly competitive nature as they spent many nights facing each other from opposite ends of the library. Occasionally they would meet eyes, and she would blush as she dove back into her studies.

In late April, after lessons that day, Lisa lead Tristan to an empty classroom.

"I think it's time we discuss the specifics of the plan." She said quietly, looking around the classroom cautiously. She had her potions journal grasped protectively in both hands.

"Right." Tristan said in acknowledgment.

Lisa cleared her throat. "As you know I have an owl—"

"You have an owl!?" Tristan blurted out loudly.

Lisa shushed Tristan and looked around the empty classroom again.

"Yes!" She replied irritably. "And like you, I have a few tricks up my sleeve." When Tristan didn't reply, she continued. "I've been working on a spell but it wasn't very powerful, so naturally I found a potion that would amplify the effects of this spell." She smiled.

"On with it, Lisa! What did you do?"

She couldn't hold in her excitement. "I mapped out a great deal of the Forbidden Forest! She flipped through her journal and pointed to an astonishingly well drawn map of the forest.

"Wow, you're a talented artist! How did you map out the Forbidden Forest? Did you go exploring on your own? If so, I guess you don't need me anymore." Tristan said a bit crestfallen.

"That's the thing, I transferred my mind into my owl's body! Oh Tristan, it was such a brilliant spell! I was able to scout out so much of forest." She was smiling from ear to ear.

"First off, If I can be honest with you Lisa, that's a bit creepy." Tristan shuddered. "Secondly, when do you have time to do all of this stuff?"

"Well, I suppose my marks are a bit low in a few of my classes." She paused. "But it's absolutely worth it!"

"You could have the highest scores in this school if you just did your homework!" Tristan said emphatically.

"Tristan, let's not digress. I need to tell you my plan." She stated defensively and slightly irritated. "We only have one shot at this so you have to pay attention. "We have a small window from when term ends to before we depart for the summer. That gives us a few days to look for the treasure."

"A few days?!" Tristan exclaimed. "I thought this would only take a few hours!"

Lisa shushed Tristan loudly this time. "Please don't interrupt me Tristan, I'll lose my train of thought. Now, from what I've seen, the path should be fairly straight forward as we head a mile into the woods, but that's where things start to get murky. I large swath of the forest is obscured by webbing of some kind… I'm thinking that's where those large spiders hide."

Tristan gulped loudly but did not interrupt.

We'll have to be cautious when we pass that area, then we need to get off the well-trodden path for a mile or so as to avoid the centaurs that normally patrol that area." She held up a hand to silence Tristan before he could speak. "Then there should be a grove and an opening where there stands and ancient tree. I have not seen it, but from all the I've researched, it is an undying tree, and it should pretty obvious which tree it is when we get there. Still, very little is known about this tree because they say that those who get to close… die." She held up a hand again. "It's obviously just a fairy tale Tristan!" She continued. "But… if we should need it, I have a feeling that you possess the ability to siphon curses. So should we need it, you'll have you draw the magic out from that tree, rendering whatever spell guards the tree, void. Then we go into the tree that will lead us to a hidden realm where we can find the treasure." She smiled sheepishly. "Any questions?"

Tristan rubbed his chin. "How are we going to get Cliona? We said that she could come with us, but I'm not sure how we're going to be able to do that. I can't apparate inside of Hogwarts grounds. Maybe once we're far enough in the woods?"

"No way! You're not leaving me in there alone at night!" Lisa yelled. "Look, I'm sorry Tristan. To be honest, I don't see any way that we can bring her along. Besides, she doesn't know magic and more likely than not she's going to be a hindrance."

"She's coming with us Lisa, whether you like it or not, so figure it out!" Tristan replied sharply. He turned and stormed out of the classroom.

Lisa spent the following weeks buried in her research. She spent very little of her free time talking to Tristan and he barely saw her at meals. He was beginning to worry that she was pushing herself too hard. Furthermore, skipping lessons was becoming a common theme for her. She had managed to land herself in multiple detentions; detentions she didn't show up for, which then earned her even more detentions.

Late one night, in early May, Tristan snuck out of his dormitory to see if he could catch a word with Lisa, as she spent her detention repotting moonlight dandelions for Professor Sprout. Moonlight Dandelions had a highly intoxicating effect if consumed after sunset, and some of the older students kept sneaking into the greenhouse to steal leaves from these plants. The new pots, would sound a loud alarm if the plants were plucked, grabbed, cut, or harmed in anyway.

On his way down to the greenhouse, he saw Harry Potter pacing the hallway in his pajamas. He looked extremely concerned and a bit mad. Tristan had never talking to Harry, as it was considered treasonous amongst Slytherins to even associate with him. But as he paced the hall in fear, something about him jarred a memory loose in Tristan's head.

"Potter?"

Harry jumped so high that Tristan thought he might be part cat. His eyes were wide and when he saw Tristan, he gave a sigh of relief.

"I absolutely cannot lose anymore points for my house tonight." He said to no one in particular.

"What's that?" Tristan asked.

"Well, I've gone and lost my house a massive amount of points. That should really help your lot out." He seemed tired and delirious but kept on talking. "Neville keeps crying and the guilt is eating at me! Why did I forget my cloak?" He stopped for a moment and looked at Tristan again, as if he were seeing him for the first time.

"Wait a second." He pointed in shock. "You're you!"

"That's the understatement of a lifetime." Tristan shot back.

"You don't remember? You saved me from my cousin Dudley! He and his gang were trying to beat me up, and they nearly would have had you not punched him so hard that he landed in a bed of roses, thorns and all!" The tension eased from his face as he began to smile. "I can still remember the look on my Aunt's face when she was pulling those thorns out of his bottom. Thanks for that!" Harry was genuinely laughing now.

"I'm happy I could help." Tristan replied. He began to walk off, but Harry reached out an arm to stop him.

"You're better off heading back to your dormitory. There are a lot of professors walking the halls tonight. Me and my mates just lost Gryffindor 150 points. I'm sure the Slytherins will be happy to know that they're winning the House Cup again this year." Harry said, his voice dropping a bit.

"You'll figure out a way to win them back I'm sure. Draco hates to admit it, but you're really talented." At that, Tristan gave Harry a wave and walked back off in the direction of Slytherin House. He thought it best not to risk getting a detention.

By the time Lisa had completed all of her detentions, examinations were upon them. Tristan was too worried because he been spending most of his free time either training, in the library researching how to break anti-apparition spells, or studying. Nevertheless, the anxiety about their upcoming journey into the Forbidden Forest had him less than comfortable. He wished that time would slow down, but soon he found himself standing up to hand in his final exam for History of Magic.

Lisa wasted no time finding him after he left the classroom. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off down an empty corridor.

"We're leaving in two days." She said shortly. "I've been hearing talk from some gossiping Ravenclaws, that the Minister plans on having aurors arrest you as soon as all testing is completed. You'll no longer have the protection of the school. The tests are staggered for the different years, so that gives us a couple days to pack our provisions."

"How is running off on an adventure into the forest going to solve that problem?" Tristan asked.

"It won't but at least it buys you more time to figure it out." She said. "I'm not sure there's much we can do about this, but if I can plan out an entire mission into the Forbidden Forest, surely you can plan a way to not get arrested."

Tristan wasn't even upset by her logic. "Good point." He said.

"There's one more thing." Lisa added. "I've managed to steal some flu powder, so we have a way to get to Cliona's place at least, which should be on the flu network. I sent one of the school's owls to her to inform her of this plan."

"Lisa, you're amazing!" Tristan shouted. You did all this on your own?

"Yeah."

"Well, I suppose all we have to do is wait." He said, his anxiety beginning to mount.

Tristan fell into an uneasy sleep that night. He dreamed that he was forced to duel with powerful wizards and his wand was nothing more than a useless twig. When he tried to summon the fire that had so customarily come to his aid, nothing happened. He screamed and ran as his attacker's hands enveloped into bright blue flames. He struggled to dodge the fireballs being hurled at him.

He awoke with a start. There was a hand grasping his shoulder. He slapped it away and rolled the opposite direction onto the cold hard floor.

"OW!"

He recognized the voice.

"How did you get into Slytherin dormitory, Lisa?" Tristan climbed off the floor and was surprised to see that Lisa was fully dressed.

"Nevermind that now. Potter's been severely wounded. A Ravenclaw prefect let slip that Potter 'did something heroic last night' the Minister is coming to see to the matter." She explained.

"Oh man, is he okay?"

"Nevermind that, Tristan! I was eavesdropping again, and overheard a group of Ravenclaws speaking to someone in from the Ministry of Magic through the flames of the Ravenclaw fireplace. Since the Minister is distracted, they're going to go through with a plan to abduct Cliona."

"I don't get it! Why do they keep trying to harm her?" Tristan asked nervously.

"People lost children during the wizarding wars, many of them aurors. They're seeking vengeance on the parties that they feel are largely responsible for the death of their kids. Entire families of former sympathizers of the dark lord have been going missing all year. I think they're going after the Cobberly's this time."

Tristan's eyes went wide in shock.

"The Daily Prophet reported that her dad was arrested last week on what seemed like minor offenses, but they continue to hold him. Don't look at me like that Tristan! I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry!" She said hurriedly.

"We have to leave now!" Tristan shouted angrily. His anxiety had turned to determination. "Do you have the flu powder ready?" He asked.

"I do, but something tells me it's not going to work. If someone in the Ministry is planning on coming for her, then they've probably disconnected her house from the flu network to prevent them from escaping."

Tristan cursed loudly. He began to change his shirt and Lisa stared transfixed as she saw the multitude of scars all over his body. He ignored her prying eyes.

"There's nothing more that we can do. We have to trust that she can take care of herself. You gave her those spells, right? Let's see if they come in handy. Meet me at the edge of the woods where I saw you the day I got attacked."

Lisa nodded; her face was hard to read.

When she left, Tristan hurriedly finished changing out of his pajamas. He whispered to himself, and a dark haired young boy appeared before him.

"Yes?" Dez asked uninterested.

"I'm about to do something that my get me killed. I could use some help." Tristan explained.

"And what is that?"

"I'm going to try to apparate back to my home." Tristan answered.

"No you're not, because that would be insane. The anti-apparition magic is so powerful here that you'll either look foolish squinting your face and nothing will happen, or you'll end up halfway home with your body parts spread out all across Scotland."

"Cliona's in trouble. You're not talking me out of this. Just help me focus my magic, Dez." Tristan tried to reach for Dez's hand but his own passed through.

Dez folded his arms and looked away angrily. "Fine. If I have to find a new master, hopefully he's smarter than you."

Tristan hadn't waited for a reply from Dez. He had already closed his eyes and began breathing in a rhythmic way. He reached out in front of himself almost as if he was hoping to grab onto some sort of rope or string. When the hairs on his arms began to stand on end, he grasped tightly at the empty air.

Dez's voice rang softly in Tristan's mind. "I must say, you do have talent."

When Tristan opened his eyes, he didn't see the room he had once been standing in. He saw an endless void painted with every manor of bright color, dancing through the darkness like strings of shimmering silk.

"You're seeing all the magic that runs through this castle." Dez explained.

Tristan looked at his hands. Within them were matching green threads. He focused only on these treads and the other colors began to fade away as the green threads became clearer and more numerous. Within seconds he was looking at a tapestry of threads that formed a green mesh.

"Ah, you've found the spell. What will you do now?" Dez asked.

Tristan pulled on the mesh, but it wouldn't budge. The spell was solid and immovable. It was at this point that he remembered something Lisa had explained to him on numerous occasions. She told him that it was quite possible that he had the ability to siphon magic. He refocused harder, hoping to make the green threads weaken a bit so he could tear his way through. A few breathless moments went by but nothing happened.

Tristan thought of Cliona. Thought of aurors taking her away from her family and doing what exactly? Perhaps they would kill her first and then her family. Tristan's heart sank into fear which descended into rage. He lashed out to punch the empty air but was alarmed when the green threads, still tight within his grasp, moved with him. He began to reach for and grasp more threads, and collectively they began to increase in elasticity. Tristan pulled back on the threads even harder as a small opening began to appear; he tried to focus his energy enough to apparate but he was exhausted trying to hold the hole in the anti-apparition spell open. Nevertheless, he drew his energy inward until his hands began to bleed. Cuts appeared on his face, arms and legs, as he screamed in defiance. He focused squarely on the hole between the treads and himself become a finite needle of energy. He maintained his presence of mind as he saw the world around him become larger. He felts himself glide like an arrow through the rapidly closing hole in the anti-apparition spell. He didn't rush it, but glided through at the last possible moment before the green mesh closed again.

Within an instant he was moving at a speed faster than any form of muggle or wizard transportation. He reappeared in his room with so much control, that there wasn't even the loud bang that accompanies apparition. Tristan fell to his knees and kissed the floor of his bedroom at Bellwether Manor. He heard an excited voice in his head.

"Tristan, that was amazing!"

The apparating had taken a lot of energy out of Tristan and he didn't want to risk trying to apparate within a restricted area again in such little time. He ran from his room and out across manor grounds towards Cliona's house. The house looked quiet, but quiet in a way that was unsettling. There were no aurors standing guard, and as Tristan approached closer, he could see that the front door was ajar. He sprinted across the grass, running headfirst into something solid. He felt a jolt of intense pain go through his body, but he saw nothing.

He stared at the empty area in front of him, too drained to focus enough to see the spell.

"Ah, I see." Dez said aloud. He was pacing in front of Tristan. "This is what caused you to lose your arm. I was wondering how that happened! Somehow, amongst all of the protective spells, someone slipped in a curse meant to act as a cage should it be triggered. I'm guessing that when you tried to apparate to Cliona's room, you triggered it, causing you to lose your arm. It's a spell designed to keep certain people out and hold other people in. Very interesting indeed."

"Stop acting like an eighteenth century detective and help me figure out how to get in!" Tristan barked at Dez.

"You're not going to have to." Dez pointed to Cliona who was being dragged out of her home screaming by a tall man who whore a mask obscuring his face. She appeared to be under a body binding spell of some sort and her arms and legs were stiff. The masked man was quickly dragging her away while Cliona's mother chased him. She turned just in time to invade a jinx fired at her by a masked woman who had now stepped out onto the front porch.

The two women fired off curses at one another and it was obvious that Cliona's mother outmatched her opponent. Nevertheless, Tristan figured that the masked woman was simply buying enough time for her partner to exit the cursed barrier with Cliona. He was sure that only they could cross back through that barrier, and no matter how skilled Mrs. Cobberly was, no spell launched by her would be able to penetrate that barrier.

The masked man made it through the barrier right as Mrs. Cobberly hit her assailant with the cruciatus curse. Her deafening scream rang through the air. Mrs. Cobberly watched as the man stood there, a terrified Cliona firmly within his grasps. She tried to run full speed at the barrier, but she was shocked just as Tristan had been and fell backwards dazed. She roared in anguish and launched herself at the barrier again and she again collapsed upon the grass in pain.

The masked man laughed at her writhing form and began to taunt her.

Tristan had to think quickly before the man disapparated with Cliona. The man was laughing and throwing taunts at the writhing form of Mrs. Cobberly. She again climbed to her feet and she again fell backwards in pain after hitting the barrier.

Tristan used this opportunity to sneak up behind the masked man and kicked him with every ounce of his strength right between the man's legs. He felt a squish and knew he had found his mark. The man was unable to scream; he barely managed a yelp and quiet sobs. He let go of Cliona and fell forward gasping.

Cliona, who was no longer being held by her assailant, fell backwards but Tristan caught her just before she hit the ground and apparated with her right on the spot.

Once again they were in his room. He called out to Leally, hoping that his brother was somewhere within the manor. To his relief, Leally appeared in an instant.

Leally looked angry. "Tristan! You've been apparating again, haven't ya? You won't learn until you finally lose an eye, or a leg, or foot, or buttock!"

"Leally, I assure you I've lost none of those things. This is really important! Mrs. Cobberly is under attack. I need you to take her somewhere safe and comeback here, please." Tristan asked the small elf.

He vanished without as much as a nod.

Within a few minutes he had returned looking shaken up.

"They were trying to torture her." A tear fell from his large round eyes. "I got her to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.

Cliona began to sob uncontrollably. She was still unable to move.

"Can you undue the spell?" Tristan asked.

"I can, a voice came from the open door." Bimpy walked over to Cliona looking somber. "Oh dear, what happened here?"

"She was attacked by aurors." Tristan replied, still deeply shaken.

Bimpy whispered to herself, and Cliona's arms and legs began to move again.

"Tristan, it was dangerous coming back here." Bimpy began. "But I understand why you did. And had you not, this girl may have died." She reached out a hand to Cliona. "I will take you to see your mother, if you would like."

"No." Cliona replied wiping tears from her eyes. "I think if they were looking for me, then it only makes her less safe."

Tristan was surprised that Cliona had the presence of mind to consider this. He spoke up, to propose the only rational solution. "She can come with me to Hogwarts. It's the safest place for her at the moment. I have no doubt that aurors are headed to our house right now to look for her."

To his surprise, Bimpy nodded. She held out her hands to Tristan and Cliona. They grasped her hands and in an instant, they were back in the vestibule of Hogwarts Castle.

"Take care of her, Tristan." she told him.

"I will."

Bimpy vanished leaving Tristan and Cliona alone and in silence.

Cliona looked around amazed. The wonder of seeing Hogwarts for the first time made her momentarily forget about the traumatic events that had just transpired.

"Let me take you to the Hospital Wing. They'll sort you out." Tristan explained.

"Tristan, where's Lisa. I reckon she might want us to get started on that journey of hers, right?"

"Right! I forgot about that! She's waiting for me! Are you sure you want to still go? With everything that happened, I'd imagine you want to find somewhere you feel safe." He responded.

"That's sweet of you, but the only thing that will keep my mind off worrying is staying active. Let's go." Cliona said decisively.

The two of them left the castle and headed towards Hagrid's hut. Cliona kept looking around and pointing, fascinating at the majesty of Hogwarts.

"Wow and there's a massive lake right next to the castle?" she asked.

"Rumor has it that there are mermaids down there."

Cliona's eyes lit up.

By the time they reached the meeting place, Tristan could not find Lisa anywhere. He was worried that she might have run off on her own, but further searching revealed that she was sitting against a thin tree a couple meters away. She looked furious when she saw Tristan, but her features softened into surprise when Cliona approached from behind.

She pointed to the flecks of blood on Tristan clothes. Though his apparition wounds had healed, his clothes still bore a reminder of his insane feat.

"I'm glad you're ok, Cliona." Lisa told her. She looked down. "And you're wearing the belt! Do you have all of the spell capsules that I gave you?"

Cliona nodded. "My mom received a tip that they might come for us, so I packed my things, including this belt. We were attached us before we could make it out the door. I got hit with a spell and couldn't move. I'm just a useless squib."

"You're not useless, Cliona." Tristan corrected her. "You showed that you're braver than Lisa or me. You went through all that not even an hour ago, and now you're ready to journey through the Forbidden Forest. That's true bravery."

"Not to interrupt your pep talk, but we've got a schedule to keep." Lisa interjected. "Come, let's find our way."

 **The Lonely Dementor**

On a dark dead hill,

On a cold damp night,

Stood a lonely dementor.

The sight of his cloak,

Brought cries of horror

A wizard locks his door.

"Your sorrow," he'd implore,

"Is not what I look for."

I've had my fill of feelings ill,"

"and now I search for more."

With no other kin in sight,

He searched both far and wide

For someone to confide.

He even searched in light.

Alone he often sighed.

On quiet nights he cried.

Some say they don't have eyes,

But he saw something bright.

A dementor who with robes of blue,

Made his heart fly high like a kite

She was joined in her group

With others that she knew.

He asked to join them too.

With her he felt something new.

A feeling that soon grew.

He didn't know what to do.

He brought her flowers that bloom,

But they all died too soon.

So he gifted her his kiss,

One moonlit night in June.

But few now know of this,

The power of dementors' kiss.

The power to put souls at risk.

Such a sight left all transfixed.

Except those two consumed with bliss.

Their souls forever mixed.

He said goodbye to loneliness.

A feeling he would not soon miss,

For love surrounded like a mist.

T'was more than he had ever wished.

So comes that fateful night.

When finally they saw a sight

Of an island free from strife.

A place that he could take his wife,

Where North Sea's waves are white.

But he knew not what trouble lie.

For in their path stood a man of strife.

A cloaked figure with a peculiar knife.

His moves were quick as lightning strike.

He hit his target and took its life.

Our not so lonely dementor held his side,

About to die,

His new friends all took flight.

His wife cried looking back in pain,

At his body lying alone in the rain,

At the cloaked man that looked insane.

"Goodbye Mr. Dementor", he said

"I finally learned how to make you dead."

"No more bad thoughts are in my head."

They'll be yours instead."

"Goodbye and good riddance!"

 **Chapter 12: The Forbidden Forest**

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Cliona complained loudly. "It feels like we've been heading in circles!"

They had been walking for what seemed like an hour and they had yet to come across anything remotely resembling a trail. Furthermore, there didn't seem to be any life in the Forbidden Forest, save for the occasional chirp of an insect.

"My feet are starting to hurt, and it doesn't look like we're any closer to… well, anything!" Cliona complained.

"Keep your voice down!" Lisa scolded her in a whisper. "There's no telling who or what may hear you!"

Tristan had a feeling Lisa was right. From the time they had entered the forest, he felt as if there someone moving just out of his line of sight. He turned this way and that but saw no one. The forest was blanketed in darkness which made seeing farther than a meter ahead of him difficult.

"There's no one here!" Cliona shouted back even louder this time.

Her voice momentarily echoing loudly through the trees and then there was silence.

"You're the one that wanted to come here! I didn't invite you!" Lisa shot back at her, still trying to keep her voice down.

Just then a flock of birds awoke in alarm and took off in flight, their flapping wings obscuring the rustling movement headed their way.

"I think I hear something." Tristan interjected. "We should move."

Cliona's face turned from annoyance to fear. Lisa waved them onward feigning bravery, but Tristan could tell by her heightened pace, that she too heard the movement of something very large. She grabbed Tristan by his cloak and pulled him in closer while they walked. Not wanting to be left behind, Lisa grabbed onto his wrist, as the three of them hurried through the forest trying not to make any further noises.

"Yuck!" Cliona blurted out.

"Oh will you please be quiet!" Lisa was angry now and she turned to face Tristan. Her mouth dropped as she stared in horror behind Tristan left shoulder.

"I've got these awful spider webs on me! I can't seem to get them off my pants and shoes!" Cliona yelled throwing caution to the wind.

Lisa didn't scold her, nor did she seem angry anymore. She looked as if she might faint and when Tristan turned around, he saw why.

Peering back at them from behind Cliona's head were eight horse size eyes. The eyes belonged to a very hair, very large creature the size of a carthorse. It had eight legs and two enormous pinchers. Before Tristan could form the words to warn her, Lisa screamed.

"SPIDER!"

Cliona was busy using a fallen branch to scrape the webbing from her clothes. She gave a casual look behind her and froze in panic. She couldn't run or even scream. It was a bizarre sight. Tristan ran forward but two arms grabbed him and lifted him off his feet. The arms slammed him in the dirt and rolled him forward like a log. When he had stop rolling, he saw the face of a terrifying creature. A spider that looked as if it had been hit with some sort of enlargement spell. Tristan tried to reach for his wand, but his arms were pinned to his side. He realized then that the spider had completely wrapped him in its webbing. It happened so quickly that he hadn't even noticed.

Close by, he could hear Cliona and Lisa screaming and he figured that they were in a similar situation. Tristan tried his hardest to wrestle with the webbing but it had the feel of cloth but the strength of steel. The spider lifted him up again, and he saw that Cliona and Lisa had also been captured by two equally large spiders. By the looks of it, Cliona had fainted in fright.

The spiders carried them down a steep slope, towards a misty domed web in the very center of a vast hollow which had been cleared of trees. In the moonlight, Tristan saw a sight that turned his stomach. Dozens upon dozens of spiders were swarming around them and to his horror, they were chanting in broken English. "Centaurs, are our mostly food! Humans, better taste they do!"

"Silence!" An elderly voice shouted, as it slinked its way out of the domed web.

Tristan's heart began to race when he saw that the voice belonged to a spider that was so large and old, that he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that it was some kind of dinosaur. This behemoth towered over them but looked so ancient, that it almost seemed frail.

Nevertheless, Tristan wanted to run but he, Cliona, and Lisa were bound tightly in spider silk. Tristan racked his brain for an escape plan; panic was superseding all rational thought.

The old spider considered them and spoke in a measured tone. "Where is Hagrid?" he began. "No humans have ever dared to tread in our kingdom.

Lisa and Cliona were paralyzed in fear so Tristan spoke up. "We… we know Hagrid. He's the groundskeeper at our school!"

The old spider looked him up and down. Tristan had a difficult time following each one of his dark beady eyes.

"Aragog, sir," the spider holding Tristan began, "we bring you a gift in hopes that you feel better about losing your wife. It's been too long and you've been so sad, we-"

Tristan was unable to hear the rest of his words because Dez was speaking so loudly in his head.

"TRISTAN, YOU HAVE TO APPARATE!" Dez's voice reverberated in Tristan's skull, giving him a slight headache.

"I can't leave my friends behind." He thought.

"It's either you or them. I don't see how you can save them without being killed. If they on of their fangs, there's enough venom there to kill a bull."

"Maybe I can burn my way out of this webbing?" Tristan suggested.

"There's no way you can do it fast enough, if you try it, you'll be killed." Dez shot back grimly. "You have to get out of here. Maybe, you can apparate, free yourself, and then come back in time to save one of them."

"No, I'm not leaving without both of them!" Tristan was stern in his resolve.

"Bring him closer. I want to taste the boy. Human meat is so hard to come by." Aragog said, his voice beginning to lift.

Tristan could feel the grip around him tighten, and he turned to see Aragog lift his body, which was concealing two very large fangs the size of walrus tusks. He opened his mouth which was lined with needle-like teeth.

Tristan cursed loudly and struggled against the spider holding him, but it was far stronger than him. He tried to recall how he had summoned the fire so many times before, but it wasn't coming to him. He thought of himself dying; nothing. He thought of Bimpy and Leally morning him; nothing. He thought of Cliona being eaten by this beast; a spark. The thought of this monster touching her enraged him. He would kill that spider if he had too, and he would protect Cliona.

Tristan could feel as small blue flames raced around the webbing causing it dissolve. He could feel his arms slowly beginning to have room to move.

Aragog stared at him, mesmerized for a moment, and then his mighty fangs came down upon Tristan. Tristan squinted his eyes in anticipation, but the pain never came. Instead he heard screams. The spiders were shrieking in terror, and he could hear hundreds of legs stampeding away from them. He opened his eyes to see that Aragog had created a great distance between them. He was backing away, trying to show bravery in the face of his fellow spiders. As the last of Tristan's bonds burned away, he turned to see what was frightening the spiders.

His mouth fell open as a serpent larger than even the trees in the surrounding forest rose its head to stare down upon Aragog. It hissed and snapped its mouth, preparing to bring down its teeth on the spider. Tristan considered the situation. He remembered that Cliona had been carrying around one on very friendly but very protective bogart. He grinned and ran over to help Cliona and Lisa. Tristan focused the fire that was still around him and burned away the ropes on Cliona and then Lisa.

Lisa hopped up and didn't need to be told to run. Cliona, however; was still quite stunned by the whole ordeal.

"We have to go Cliona, before Bonnie turns herself back." Tristan told her comfortingly.

She climbed to her feet, her legs still shaking. "O-ok."

Tristan grabbed her hand and ran with her as Lisa lead the way. They had been running for only a couple of minutes when a purple smoke appeared flowing behind them. When it reached Cliona, it disappeared into one of the vials on her belt.

"Guess, they don't like snakes!" she said, her panic beginning to subside.

"I don't think any of us like giant snakes!" Tristan replied laughing.

He instantly regretted laughing. In the distance, he could hear the loud scurrying of their eight-legged pursuers. Lisa had noticed that they were being chased as well, and though Tristan had never seen her show any athletic ability before, she took off at a speed that he had not known she was capable of. He tried to keep pace, but he had to slow down as to not drag Cliona who was much slower. She ran cautiously as if she was struggling not to strike her foot on fallen branches.

Tristan looked back and could see that it was Aragog coming up on them. A pack of loyal spiders were following closely behind him. Despite his presumptively old age, he was moving with an eerie amount of speed and grace. If they didn't speed up, he would be on top of them in no time.

Tristan turned to aim a spell at the creature yelling, "incendio!"

Aragog glided to the side, as a fire ball the size of a small bolder whizzed past him, hitting a spider behind him squarely in the abdomen causing it to erupt in flames.

Tristan began to run faster but within an instant, Cliona caught her foot on a tree root and stumbled. He lost sight of Lisa as she turned sharply around a grouping of trees. He looked back and saw that Aragog was mere meters away. He covered the distance with a great leap. He had his teeth bared.

Tristan steadied his wand preparing to aim a spell, but the spider fell face first into the dirt in front of them. It tried to pick itself up, but it could not. Finally, it managed to lift its face up, but something landed on top of its great head causing it dip back down into the dirt.

It was the boy from the basement. He stood there confidently atop the spider with the same bored expression on his face; his hands were in his pockets as usual. He was calm, cool, and collected as if he were not in a life-threatening situation.

"I came back to the Master's manor and found you outside struggling with aurors. That was quite reckless what you did. The Master did not know of your existence until our chance meeting, and now it seems you have some role yet to play. A role that cannot be fulfilled if you perish." He swirled in time to see a legion of spiders lunging through the air at him.

All Tristan saw was a pair of silver blurs shooting around the boy's body as spiders began to shriek in agony. Legs and fangs swirled through the air independent of their bodies. Some spiders fell dead, others shrank back in fear. Aragog let out a roar and released himself from the bind the boy had him under.

No matter, the boy leaped high into the air, higher than Tristan thought humanly possible. His razor sharp boomerangs raced back towards Aragog. The spider tried to swipe at them, but he was much too slow. He let out a booming cry as the blades sliced through his eyes.

The boy landed in front of Cliona with his back to her. "I lost track of you when you got into the forest. Had I not seen your fireball, I suppose you'd be someone's dinner by now." He removed one hand from his pocket and motioned for them to run. There were hordes of spiders coming to Aragog's rescue now.

"But he'll die!" Cliona said in protest as Tristan pulled her away from the oncoming melee.

"I think he can take care of himself." Tristan corrected her as they took off in the direction they saw Lisa run.

They ran until the screaming of spiders was far behind them. The haunting sounds of pain and death subsided as Tristan tried his best to trace Lisa's steps from the trail of trampled bushes and broken branches she had left behind. After about 30 minutes, he conceded that they were lost.

"Which direction should we try next?" Cliona asked.

"Any direction except back the way we came." Tristan replied solemnly. "What do you think, Dez?"

Cliona gave Tristan a puzzled gaze. Unbeknownst to her, Dez had appeared right beside her and was looking squarely at Tristan.

"I have very little memory of this place." Dez replied. "I haven't been to Hogwarts since the old days. This forest is a completely new to me."

Tristan wondered around the area as Cliona bent over to catch her breath. He was looking for some kind of clue that would guide them. He saw a crooked looking tree and went over to exam it.

Cliona called out to him, worried when she lost sight of him. Her voice distracted him and he found himself tripping over a log and falling onto a mound of hard dirt. He was alarmed to see that it was someone and not something he had tripped over. There, sitting in an old musty pair of Hogwarts robes was a boy around 17 years of age. He looked sickly, pale, and emaciated; his clothes dangled on his thin frame. The boy was fast asleep, and somehow the crooked tree had begun to grow around him while he was sleeping.

"Cliona! Come check this out!" he called out.

Dez walked over to the boy and examined him. "He appears to be under some kind of spell."

"A sleeping spell?" Tristan asked.

"Nothing so peaceful, I'm afraid." Dez replied.

"Oh my!" Cliona exclaimed when she saw the sleeping boy. "He's almost been completely consumed by that tree. I think we should help him."

Tristan reached out a hand to try to shake the boy awake, but Dez appeared in front of him.

"Wait! Don't touch him!" He yelled.

Tristan's hand passed through Dez and he softly gripped the sleeping boy's forearm. "Wake up, mate. It's not safe to sleep out here." A sickening sensation passed through Tristan.

His vision went hazy and he no longer saw the forest before him. A few seconds passed and he was back in the forest; however, Cliona and Dez were nowhere to be seen. He found that he was following a boy that he had never met down a steep hill. Walking beside the boy, was a girl around the same age, neither of them looked back. After a few minutes of silence, they approached a clearing in the woods where the moonlight shone through.

"Where are we at, Tom?" The girl asked eagerly.

"I have someone I would like you to meet." Tom replied. "He has promised to teach us the true secrets of life and death. I chose you two to share in this knowledge with me. Soon we will consume death, our finest cuisine." He bellowed charismatically.

There was movement on the other side of the clearing. A figure walked into view and stepped into the light of the moon. He was a handsome man, tall and thin with dark bags under his eyes. He seemed surprised to see Tristan. His eyes then darted to the girl with intense interest. She backed away from him in fear.

"Tom, who is this man?" she asked.

"Calm down, Rebecca. He is a friend." Tom assured her.

"Sanguini!" He called out to the man. "I brought you what you asked for, now tell me what you know."

Sanguini moved with such speed that Tristan's eyes barely registered it. In an instant he had swept Rebecca up into his arms, tilted her neck sideways, and began to feed. She let out a blood curdling scream.

It was this point that Tristan realized that he was not himself. He felt his body move on its own. When he saw the outstretched hand holding the wand, he saw that the hand nor the wand was his.

"Crucio! He screamed in a much deeper voice than his own.

Sanguini flinched violently while his hand was still tightly around Rebecca's neck. Tristan's felt his heart sink at the sound of her neck snapping. Sanguini dropped her as he writhed in pain. When recovered somewhat, he gritted his fang-like teeth and lunged at Tristan. He felt the pain as Sanguini bit down on his wrist with tremendous force.

His eyes went hazy again and the next thing he knew he was standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, sheltered from the noon day sun. He watched as the Hogwarts students enjoyed their end of term free time. A third year girl was playing with an enchanted piece of parchment that she had folded into a bird and animated. She followed the bird as it flew closer and closer to the shade of the Forbidden Forest. She was having a hard time keeping up with her bird as it flew towards where Tristan stood. When the bird got too far away from her, the enchantment faltered and it fell at Tristan's feet.

The girl ran over so focused on the bird that she did not see him standing there. She jumped in surprised when she noticed Tristan.

"William!" She shouted. "You're William Belmont! You've been missing for days!" She approached closer, eying him in concern. "I'll go tell the Headmaster!" She then turned to run back to the castle."

"Wait!" He heard himself say in that deep voice that wasn't his own. He picked up the paper bird and held it out in front of him.

"Oh right!" the third year girl said enthusiastically.

She ran over to retrieve the bird from Tristan. When she reached for it, Tristan moved in one swift motion. He grabbed her outstretched arm, covered her mouth, and bit down upon her neck. He ignored her muffled screams as the warm taste of blood filled his mouth. It was delicious ecstasy.

His vision blurred once again and he was standing in front of Tom screaming.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME! I'M A MONSTER!" Tristan screamed.

Tom stared back at him blankly. "None of this would have happened had you just let him take Rebecca. You had to step in though, didn't you William? Had you not hit him with the curse, then he wouldn't have called the deal off!"

"IF I'M STUCK LIKE THIS, I'LL KILL YOU RIDDLE!" Tristan yelled back.

Tom considered something. He performed a wordless summoning charm, and a vial flew through the window of the astronomy tower where they were standing. Tom smiled and handed the vial of glowing silver liquid to Tristan.

"As it so happens, I've been working on a cure. The last ingredient of which is unicorn blood." He gave a coy smile.

Tristan snatched it from his hand, uncorked the vial, and downed all of its contents in one gulp. Instantly, a feeling of warmth took over him and he felt elated. He felt a faint pounding in his chest. It was his heart. He hadn't had a heart beat since the day he'd been attacked. He smiled at Tom and laughed gleefully.

Tom returned the laugh but it wasn't one of joy but of sadism. He continued to watch as Tristan pumped his hands up and down but then Tristan stopped celebrating.

"Something wrong, William?" Tom asked.

"No… the things is… well, I've only just remembered something. Something rather sad." Tears began to fill up in Tristan's eyes. "Oh no! What have I done?!"

Tristan ran down from the tower wailing in horror as he tried to find his way out of the castle through tear stained eyes. After several long minutes, he burst out of the castle doors and ran for the Forbidden Forest, still crying loudly. He made his way through the woods oblivious to the scrapes and scratches that he was getting all over his face and hands. He ran for miles, and when he could run no more, he sat up against a young tree as the memories of all the horrible things that he had done played in his mind like a film reel. He stared at the people he killed, and they looked back at him with anger in their eyes.

"I'm so sorry! Forgive me!" he pleaded.

He cried for hours, days and soon the memories were all he could see. He didn't cry, he didn't look away, he didn't move.

Tristan came to his senses as the frail frame of William opened its eyes and looked at him. Tristan was himself again and no longer William. Williams eyes turned blood red and his teeth elongated into fangs. Tristan tried to back away, but the crazed boy was so fast that he hardly had time to let go of his arm before the boy swiped at him with his blade-like fingernails.

William looked up at Cliona and hishis interest in Tristan dissipated. With one great heave, he leaned forward and broke free from the large tree that engulfed him. He moved fast and within an instant he had leaped onto Cliona. She was screaming!

Tristan aimed a spell at him, but nothing dangerous, in case he hit Cliona. "Stupefy!"

William leaped out of the way but without relinquishing his grip on Cliona. She looked as if she was in great pain.

"Stupefy!" Tristan shouted again but William didn't even bother dodging it this time.

The spell hit him squarely in the chest and William just looked at him irritably. Tristan ran at him and tried tackling him, but though the boy looked frail, he was incredibly strong. William grab him by the back of his cloak and threw him through the air.

Cliona used this opportunity to pull a spell from her belt and she slammed the glass bottle at William's feet, causing vines to shoot up from the ground and bind him. She ran towards Tristan who was climbing to his feet.

William, however, didn't miss a beat. He sliced through the vines with his long fingernails, and he darted in Cliona's direction, blocking her path with his body, his back to Tristan. Tristan tried aiming a spell again. William backhanded him without looking and Tristan flew backwards again.

"Help me!" He screamed aloud.

"Oh now you want to listen to me." Dez shot back.

"He's going to eat her if I don't do something quick!"

"Fine." Dez responded coldly. "Repeat after me."

Tristan felt his arm move on its own in a pattern he didn't recognize. He listened as Dez gave the command and then he shouted, "Imperio!"

William was millimeters away from biting into Cliona's neck. He let go of her and walked over to Tristan with a smile on his face.

"I'm surprised a child of your age can produce an imperius spell that is this powerful." He sighed. "I've been hit by this spell more times than I can count, so this won't hold me for very long." He looked back at Cliona, who was trying to get her wits about her. "Thank you! My head seems clearer now. Tom had me under some kind of curse, but you released me from it. It's like you absorbed all the dark properties."

Tristan ran to Cliona's aid as William watched them. His feet did not move but he followed them with his eyes. Cliona was still very shaken up and it took a moment for her to speak.

"Th-That's a-"

"Vampire." Lisa said plainly, finishing Cliona's sentence. When Tristan and Cliona gave her annoyed glances, she put her hands up, a sheepish smile on her face. "I see giant spiders and I run. You can't blame me for that." She looked at William who was still frozen in front of them. "Anyways, there's loads of centaurs patrolling the area up ahead. I was thinking of a strategy to avoid them when I heard you lot screaming at the top of your lungs. I won't be surprised if the centaurs are on their way here now." She motioned for Cliona and Tristan to follow her.

"Wait!" William called out.

"What do you want!" Tristan shot back.

"Tell me where I can find Tom and I'll leave you be." William said imploringly.

"Tom?"

"Yes, Tom Riddle." He continued. "He made me this way."

"Voldemort?" Lisa asked.

"Yes, some of us called him that." William answered.

"He's been dead for a while. He got killed by a little kid." Lisa laughed to herself.

William sighed and watched as they walked off.

The trio didn't have to walk for long before they came across the centaurs. They were sneaking along when they heard the soft sound of hooves accompanied by a group of whispering voices. They attempted to hide behind a large bush, but Cliona picked the absolute wrong time to sneeze so loudly, that it woke up half of the forest. Lisa eyed her angrily and then gave Tristan a look that said " _this is your fault for letting her come along."_

They crouched there as still as possible but the inevitable happened. They looked around to see that they were surrounded by four very enormous creatures. They were men, yet they weren't. Their upper bodies were like that of Olympic athletes and the lower bodies of a war horses. They wore bows slung around their shoulders with a quiver fitted around their midsection. The horse that spoke first carried a long spear and he had an arrogant way about him.

"Well, well, well-" he began but was cut off by hooves galloping forward at full speed.

A fifth centaur approached. He was much smaller than the other four and he was winded when he finally stopped in front of the centaur with the spear. He held a thick rope that appeared to be cut clean through.

"The vampire got away. I'm sorry, Magorian." He said, heaving to catch his breath. "He proved to be quite quick for having only two legs and he used magic."

"Nonsense! Vampires can't use magic, Tennon!" Magorian barked back. "Do not attempt to fool us with fantasy to hide your incompetence. Magorian then turned away from him, focusing his attention back on Tristan, Lisa, and Cliona. He lowered the tip of his spear to point at Tristan. "Why are you here, boy?"

Lisa cut across him and spoke instead. "Sir, we don't mean you any harm. We just want to find the hole in the world, where things stay as they were."

At this, the centaurs howled with laughter. Except for Tennon, who was still looked to be embarrassed. Magorian was laughing so hard they he almost dropped his spear. With his free hand he wiped tears from his eyes.

"You are absolutely mad. You're on a suicide mission, I see." Magorian looked down upon Cliona who was now shivering worse than ever at the words 'suicide mission.' "The land you seek was created for magical creatures. You know that don't you girl?"

Lisa nodded.

"Well, you should also know that no human that has ever entered through that hole has ever returned. Not even your headmaster is foolish enough to go seeking the treasures that lie within." He smiled. "But why listen to reason? Follow me, young ones. I will show you to the doom you're seeking."

 **Chapter 13: Into the Dark Out Through the Light**

Before them stood an enormous old tree that looked as if it had died many years ago. Its branches were empty of leaves, yet there it stood, strong and tall amongst the sea of green trees surrounding it.

Tristan, Lisa, and Cliona lined up and walked past Magorian as they entered through a large dark hole in the tree. Lisa, being the most eager of the three, climbed into the tree first, followed by Tristan, and then Cliona.

To Tristan's surprise, the tree was spacious on the inside. However, they were immediately blanketed in darkness. Lisa was the first to whisper _lumous,_ quickly followed by Tristan.

The darkness was so thick that their wands provided minimal light. Tristan reached out for Cliona's hand as they pressed on further into the darkness. Lisa was far ahead of them and she let out an audible gasp. The light from her wand extinguished.

Cliona called out to her, as they both ran forward hand in hand.

"Stop!" Lisa shouted back.

Tristan waved his wand around trying to find her, but he couldn't. Finally, he heard a yelp from below him. He looked down to see that he was standing on the ledge of a cliff. To his left he could see Lisa's upper body half way situated on the ledge, while her legs dangled above an endless abyss. She tried to pull her legs up and slipped.

Tristan released Cliona's hand and grabbed hold of Lisa's wrist. Cliona grabbed Lisa's other hand and they both pulled her up with one great heave. She brushed the dirt from her robes and gave a satisfactory grin.

"Thanks for that!" Lisa said matter-of-factly. She fumbled around on the ground until she found her wand.

"I know you're excited to find your jewel but we have to be cautious and stick together." Cliona said to Lisa, who was hardly listening.

Tristan had a brilliant idea, and he aimed his wand upwards and called out, "incendio!" A large flame shot from his wand illuminating a great swath of the cavern.

"Over there!" Lisa pointed towards a bridge that reached out over the endless darkness. "There's our way."

They all grabbed hands and made their way over to the narrow bridge as the light from the spell dimmed.

"You first this time." Lisa said jokingly.

Tristan took the lead as they inched their way across the narrow rock bridge. The bridge had no siding, so they had to be careful not to step off of it by accident due to its winding structure.

At last, Tristan could see that the darkness was less heavy. The cavern appeared a dull gray instead of a deep black. He continued walking forward and finally they were back on solid ground.

Tristan sighed in relief. He followed the glimmer of gray until he began to see faint colors again. At the far end of the cavern, there was a dim light peeking through a hole in the cavern wall. The three of them stopped.

"I'll go first. I don't want you two to think I'm a coward or anything." Cliona said nervously.

She took a running start and jumped through the hole in the cavern.

Lisa went next, following the same approach as Cliona. She shouted in glee as she jumped through the hole.

Tristan laughed to himself. _I guess that makes three of us._ He took off running and lunged through the hole.

He was overwhelmed with the sudden burst of light as he shot out into a land filled with colors, sounds, and smells. He landed hard on what appeared to be a pile of branches. He reached below him to see that they were relatively soft for tree branches. _What a strange new world._ He thought.

"Tristan."

"Yeah, Lisa."

"Get off me!" she groaned irritably.

He looked down to see that he was lying on top of Lisa who was sprawled out over Cliona.

"Oh, sorry!" he said sheepishly and climbed to his feet.

"We were hoping that you wouldn't run and jump through like us." Cliona said as she climbed out from under Lisa.

"Oh wow!" Cliona shouted.

Tristan turned to see that they were in the middle of a bright meadow surrounded by trees. Behind them was the old decrepit tree surround by a forest that seemed lusher and greener than it did in their own time. Ahead of them stood a castle, though it was much larger than it was in their time, it could not be mistaken; this was Hogwarts.

Lisa shouted in triumph.

"So what now?" Tristan asked.

Lisa was busy engaging in a celebratory dance and it wasn't until she let out a final cry of joy, that she even acknowledged the presence of Cliona and Tristan. She came back to herself, bashfully looking back at them, embarrassment beginning to creep into the color of her cheeks.

"What now?" Tristan asked again.

"Now we head there." Lisa pointed to a section of the castle that looked unfamiliar to Tristan. "What we are looking for is in there. This entire wing of the castle used to belong to Slytherin."

"Why only Slytherin?" Cliona looked back and forth between Lisa and Tristan.

Tristan shrugged but Lisa answered, "I have no clue. If we see him, maybe we can ask." She motioned for Tristan and Cliona to follow her.

Although much had gone wrong, Tristan had more-or-less known the plan for venturing through the Forbidden Forest. Searching an older, vastly larger version of Hogwarts Castle was another thing entirely, and he could not be sure what would come next. He reluctantly followed Lisa along the Hogwarts grounds. Cliona was close behind.

Judging by how quiet it was on the grounds, Tristan figured that it must have been around dinnertime. The trio sneaked into the main entrance as if they were burglars. The castle looked entirely different. Instead of walls filled with portraits, there were banners with different family crests on them. Tristan figured these were hung as testament to the royal wizarding families that attended Hogwarts. Likewise, instead of old chandeliers and suits of armor, there stood great statues of wizards and witches in various states of artistic undress. Cliona took one look at a tall wizard with naught but a sash draping his shoulder and turned away blushing.

They continued further into the castle which was completely quiet. Lisa suggested that Tristan lead the way since he was the most knowledgeable about Slytherin House. He led them through vaguely familiar passageways and at last they found their way down to the dungeons. Tristan was surprised that up to this point, they had not seen a single ghost or poltergeist.

He shuddered as he looked at the walls of the dungeons. Instead of being mostly bare, they were filled with chains, whips, and what looked like torture devices.

"This is creepy." Cliona whispered.

Tristan nodded. He led them on through the cold, dank dungeon until finally he began to recognize where he was.

"It's just up here." Tristan assured them.

Moments later they were face to face with the door to Slytherin House.

Lisa wrapped her arms around Tristan's arm and gave him a toothy smile. "Password? What's the password, Tristan." Lisa asked.

"Why would I know the password. I don't even know what year it is."

"Hit is se nigoða dæġ Hlȳdan þæs þūsendoðan þæs ġēares." A voice replied from the distance.

"1001 A.D.?" Tristan asked in shock. "How old is this school?"

"Endleofan ġēara." The voice answered.

"This is Hogwarts' eleventh year? Wow!" Tristan was so fascinated by this realization that he didn't stop to consider who he was speaking with. Likewise, the other two were so bewildered with Tristan that they too were not focused on the new person present.

A tall figure walked into view. He was a handsome man in his late 20's with silvery gray hair, a well-groomed goatee, and strong chiseled jaws. He stood around six feet tall and had a thin but sturdy frame. He wore shiny robes of gray with hints of dark olive. His dark eyes were fierce, like that of a viper, but his demeanor was soft, all things considered.

Dez appeared next to Tristan, which almost caused him to jump due to the mounting tension. Dez was grimacing from stress and looking much older than his age.

"Hide your wand!" Dez shouted, panicked. "Now!"

Tristan reluctantly obeyed, casually putting his hands behind his back, fitted his wand into his back pocket, and covered it with his robes. _You better have a good reason for this,_ he thought.

Lisa and Cliona looked between Tristan and the man confused but saying nothing.

 _What's going on?_ Tristan thought in his mind as a question to Dez.

"Your friends cannot understand him. He is speaking Old English and so were you." Dez explained.

 _If Old English is really that different, how can I understand him or even speak it?_

"Because I can understand him, and I speak it." Dez replied irritably.

The mysterious man spoke again. "Tell me young ones, how do you know the secrets of my house?"

Lisa and Cliona didn't know what to say, because they could not understand him. Tristan put his finger over his mouth, miming for them to stay silent.

"Uh, we're lost." Tristan shrugged, feigning casualness.

Dez pointed at the man's left hand. "Look at his wand."

The man wore a massive intricately designed ring on his middle finger, and to Tristan's surprise, the man's pale fingers were grasping around the same dark red colored wand that he himself used.

"This is my former master—" Dez was cut off.

"I'm Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin. And you three are?"

At the sound of his name, fear rushed over Lisa. Clearly, she hadn't actually been expecting to meet _thee_ Salazar Slytherin.

"We're lost." Tristan replied attempting to improvise.

Dez groaned. "This was a dangerous time for wizards and communication between wizarding families was not yet as commonplace as it is in your time. Children didn't get letters inviting them to Hogwarts. Knowledge of the school was spread through word of mouth and only the wealthy could attend. Therefore, repeat after me."

"Lost? Is that right?" Salazar said suspiciously.

"Look sir, we heard a tale of a school where people with _magic_ could go to escape persecution and learn how to defend themselves. We have been wandering the countryside for ages just trying to get away. We lost several friends and we were afraid, so we sought refuge at your school." Tristan spoke echoing the words of Dez.

Dez seemed more tense than Tristan, as Salazar mulled over all that had been told to him. Salazar's face shifted to one of understanding, and Dez's boyish grin returned.

His voice had a caring tone when he spoke. "Those non-magic folks seek to wipe us out. They see us as evil. I'm sorry you children had to experience that. I'll take care of you. Come. Follow me."

Tristan motioned for the group to follow Slytherin.

Slytherin led them away from the dungeon up several staircases that he had not known about. He figured that this must be a wing of Hogwarts that no longer existed in their time.

As they were walking, Lisa snuck up beside Tristan. "You never told me you could speak Old English?" She whispered

"I didn't know I could until right then."

She frowned. "I hadn't considered that the portal could take us so far back that the languages would be different."

"There's a lot you didn't consider, but one thing I do know is that you knew that it was Hogwarts we were going to and you should have prepared us for that." Tristan replied agitated.

She looked worried. "Umm… this is just a theory of mine… but this reality is based on a loop. My research shows that magical creature hide here and the loop doesn't affect them because they are not actually from this time period. My theory is that the same will happen with us but I'm not sure."

"What does that mean." Tristan shot back.

"Well, it could mean that when the loop resets itself we continue on as we were, unaffected by it because we are not of this world." She paused for a long time.

"Or?" Tristan asked.

"Or we cease to exist." She said plainly.

Cliona, who had been listening in, gasped in horror.

Tristan's heart sank into his stomach. This whole plan was to venture through a dangerous forest to find a land preserved in time where there was a special treasure. Finding this treasure was supposed to be the easy part. Now they not only had no clue where to look, but they also were apparently on a timer or they would _cease to exist._

"How long do we have?" he asked regaining his composure.

"Till midnight."

Tristan gulped.

At long last, they arrived at an ornate wall. There was a large bronze statue of a man in billowing robes with an enormous serpent wrapped around him. The head of the serpent lay tenderly on his shoulder. Slytherin addressed the statue hissing under his breath, which partially sounded like words to Tristan, but they were very faint.

The bronze snake slithered from around the statue fusing with the wall as it slithered into the shape of a doorway. The wall opened up and the bronze wizard bowed as they walked past him.

They walked into an expansive office that was filled with more gadgets, knickknacks, and wizarding equipment than even Dumbledore's office. There was a wall lined with different mirrors, all inscribed in ancient languages; there were hundreds of weapons; shelves upon shelves with vials of neon glowing substances; and so much more.

Lisa was looking around frantically. Tristan could tell that she was hoping to spot her treasure lying around somewhere, but he was certain that Salazar would not pick such an obvious hiding place for something valuable enough to make a young girl want to leap through time to find it.

Salazar walked over to his long wooden desk and sat in the seat behind it. He waved his wand without speaking and three chairs appeared before them. When they had sat down, he pointed to Tristan and smiled.

"You are exuding power, boy." He smiled. "What is your name?"

"Bellwether, sir. Tristan Bellwether." Tristan replied shakily.

"Bellwether? Hmm… I do not know any wizarding families with that name. But surely your family is from far away, perhaps Ethiopia?"

"Yes sir," Tristan lied.

"I sense great power in you. But I want you to be careful. If someone else had found you, you'd be in much greater danger. There is a man, named Godric Gryffindor who will stop at nothing for power. This school has been around for only 11 years and already he's picking out the most powerful students to join him. I believe he means to conquer this school and use its strongest students to make an army."

"An army for what?"

"He believes that wizards should rule this country, but I see him for who he is. Gryffindor wants nothing but power!" Anger was burning behind Salazar's eyes. "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's safe for you three here. I will show you out."

Tristan knew that if they were escorted out of Hogwarts, they would have to start all over again and their task would become even more difficult.

"Sir, please! If you could train us, maybe one day we could help you stop Gryffindor!" Tristan pleaded.

Salazar stood up and walked over to him. "The amount of training you would need, it would be years before you would be of any use in a duel."

"I know plenty of magic already!" Tristan retorted.

Salazar gave a thunderous lighthearted laugh. He smiled down at Tristan. "Well kid, show me what you got?" He held out his wand to Tristan.

Tristan could hear Dez shouting at him in his mind, but he ignored him. He reached for the wand, and when he did, he saw a man in his late 20's, wearing ancient robes. He had brown, sun baked skin, and dark hair. He stood almost as tall as Slytherin, and he had a cocky grin on his face. Tristan knew that this must be an older version of Dez. The older Dez did not notice Tristan staring at him.

Tristan looked away.

"Well, Tristan. Show me something." Requested Slytherin.

Tristan pointed the wand at the desk and called out, "Incendio."

The desk erupted in flames. The older version of Dez lepted in surprise, but Slytherin waved his hand and the fire subsided.

 _How?_ Tristan thought. _How was he able to counter that spell without a wand?_

Slytherin laughed again. "That's quite a spell! Maybe you should stay here after all."

Tristan smiled and accidentally made eye contact with Dez, which did not go unnoticed this time.

"You can see me?" he asked.

Tristan handed the wand back to Slytherin. Too late. Slytherin was already suspicious.

"If I were to hand my wand to her," he pointed at Cliona, "what are the odds that she would know magic as well?" He asked.

"Very likely, sir." Tristan responded.

"Is that true or are you working for him now?" Slytherin was no longer smiling. "Did Gryffindor put you up to this?"

"No, we were lost and—"

Slytherin cut him off. "Don't lie to me, boy! Gryffindor always lies to me. When he told the four of us we should start a school to educate and protect the magical community, it was a lie for power!"

Slytherin's movements were so fast that Tristan didn't see his hand moving till it was already too late.

Tristan felt himself falling back in time. He heard himself crying, he looked up into the face of Bimpy but she was much younger. As he was carried out of the room he saw a beautiful black woman who looked to be peacefully sleeping. In a flash he was out on the playground back at his old school. The kids were teasing him because he was the new kid. He was trying to be play nicely by himself, but somehow he had managed to accidentally set a boy's toy action figure on fire. He turned to see that he was in the house where Cliona had been taken. He was struggling to rescue her, and then he was being kicked and beaten by the boys in Ravenclaw House, and then his vision went blurry.

Now, he was arguing with a man in his early thirties. The man had curly brown hair and wore an arrogant expression. He was average height but very muscular for his size. He wore an elegant set of ruby red robes and the hilt of a sword could be seen poking out from beneath his robes. He could hear himself speaking, but the voice was not his own.

"Godric, please! You can't take this boy in! It's not safe to let in those who don't come from wizarding families! One slip of his tongue and we will have mobs of villagers coming to burn down this castle.'

"His talent far outweighs the risk." Gryffindor replied.

There was a flash and Gryffindor was looking out of the window. There was a small army surveying the land as if the castle was invisible to them.

"This is all your fault!" he screamed at Gryffindor. "I told you not to trust their kind. They have and will always hate us. This is the doing of that boy!"

There was a flash again and he was holding the dead body of a little girl. She was without bruise or blemish and it looked as if she had simply fallen asleep.

Gryffindor stood staring down at the girl, his face filled with regret. "Salazar, I'm sorry. He showed no signs of being this kind of monster."

Tears blurred Salazar's eyes and he had difficulty speaking through his violent sobs. "I warned you! I told you that those who came from non-wizarding families couldn't be trusted! You and Rowena only want power! He sent an army to our doorstep and he… He killed my daughter!"

Tristan was shot backwards across the room. Slytherin was on his knees on the floor. They were alone. Thankfully, Lisa and Cliona had escaped from the office.

Tristan was dazed and gingerly pulled himself to his feet. He half expected it and pulled out his wand just in time see that Slytherin had his wand pointed directly at him. A stream of golden light shot from his wand.

Tristan reflexes had grown greatly from training with Snape. He shouted, "Protego!"

Instead of blocking Slytherin's spell, the two spells cancelled each other out.

Slytherin stopped to look at Tristan in utter amazement. "You have the same wand?"

Tristan tried to think of a lie.

"And you're from the future, aren't you?" Slytherin asked.

"Be careful, Tristan. His power far exceeds your own. If he wanted you dead, you would be." Dez explained.

"You're from my house." Slytherin began. "Yet you think me untrustworthy? Why is that? Is that what I'm remembered as?"

Tristan ignored Salazar's prompts. "We're here for something and then we'll return to our time?"

"And what is that?"

"Uhh... Tristan..." Dez was trying frantically to get his attention but Tristan's focus was singularly on Slytherin.

He didn't notice as thick silver serpents coiled around where he stood. Not touching him and out of his eye line at first. Tristan went to lift his arm but quickly realized there was not enough room. The snakes were forming a spiraling cage. They grew until he was completely enclosed. He closed his eyes and tried apparating, but this too proved useless.

"We need to have a talk." Salazar said firmly.

Suddenly there was a series of bangs on the far wall. The banging continued until finally a portion of the wall exploded. Pieces of heavy stone flew across the room, but Tristan was shielded within the silver barrier.

A tall, beautiful woman with jet black hair gracefully strolled into the room. She was flanked by the wizard Tristan has seen in the vision only moments earlier. He looked even fiercer now. His jaw line and rough features could only be compared to that of a lion. Behind him were two 12-year-old girls who had their arms bound in front of them.

Tristan could see the terror in Cliona's eyes, and it made him angry with himself for letting her come along. He couldn't help but think that they would die here, killed by the Hogwarts' founders.

The woman was the first to speak. "You and your secrets Slytherin. Were you not going to tell us about these children from the future? The things we could learn from them, and you wanted them all for yourself!"

"Rowena, these children are not here for our amusement. It's clear they have a very important task at hand." Salazar yelled.

Godric fired a spell at Salazar but he blocked it.

"Where is the boy?" He demanded.

The dust from the explosion had yet to settle and neither Godric nor Rowena noticed Tristan. He felt a surge of energy as if he was apparating but not of his own volition. He was pulled away into a void and he re-emerged behind Cliona and Lisa. He looked around stunned, realizing that it was Salazar that had apparated him without even touching him.

He whispered, "relashio," and the ropes binding his friends fell off.

Lisa almost cheered in response but caught herself.

She turned to see Tristan's frantic face urging them to keep quiet. He pantomimed a plan which involved then running and hiding. The others nodded in agreement.

Tristan gave one last glance over his shoulder at Salazar who was surprisingly holding his own in a duel against two people who were arguably his equals. The magic emanating from them was so heavy and thick that it was hard to breathe. Tristan wanted to help Salazar, but he resolved that it would undermine all Salazar had done to help him.

The trio took off running down the corridor and had only made it a few feet before purple mist appeared in front of them. Ravenclaw came into solid form. The magic emanating from her was terrifying.

Without thinking, Tristan grabbed both Lisa and Cliona and apparated on the spot.

A second later, they were now in the forbidden third floor corridor. Tristan ushered them into a familiar door.

"Whoa!" Cliona shouted.

Lisa shushed her. "Tristan, you never apparated with two people before. It's the magic isn't it? All of the magic in the air here. You've been feeding off it." A broad grin spread across her face. "Their magic is making you stronger!" She paused for a response. "Tristan?"

Tristan was aggravated and ignoring Lisa. This was an impossible plan from the beginning and only one person knew this. One person refused to fully share all they knew about this hazardous undertaking.

"It's you!" Tristan growled. "You knew what we'd be up against and you said nothing! You knew how to make our plan easier and you never spoke up! You know exactly where that treasure is of Slytherin's because you were with him when he hid it!"

Dez appeared in front of Tristan, hands up in a surrendering gesture.

"Where is it, Dez?" Tristan demanded angrily.

"I can't tell you." He replied seriously.

"You can't or you won't?" Tristan shot back.

Lisa and Cliona were staring at Tristan dumbfounded.

"Oh no, he's finally lost it." Lisa gasped exasperated.

"Tristan… who are you talking to?" Cliona asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"I won't tell you." Dez said plainly. "I am a wand. I bear the secrets of my master, of many masters. If I were to tell every secret and betray every trust, then my risk would be greater than my reward. I would be discarded somewhere no one would ever find me, or at worst, destroyed. It's the code of all wands such as myself, we take an oath of confidence. The only exception is if you rightfully took his wand in a duel."

Tristan was angry and was beginning to pull at his hair in frustration. Cliona ran up to him and hugged him.

"It's okay. We'll find the treasure before midnight and get back home." She whispered reassuringly. "I know it's maddening but we have to keep it together."

Lisa grinned in her own comforting sort of way. "Yeah keep it together, mate."

"I think I know were the treasure is." Tristan said slowly.

"Yeah? Where's that?" Lisa asked sarcastically.

"When we were in the dungeon, Salazar asked how I knew his secrets. I think that means that there's something behind that wall. This castle is different and much larger than it is in our day. I don't think Slytherin House is down there yet." Tristan explained.

"Wait, we never addressed how you know old English? It all just sounded like German to me." Cliona asked.

"It's their wands. They're the same." Lisa turned to Tristan. "If I'm being honest, I don't know how you managed to find a wand that's at least a thousand years old but clearly the bond between you and it has left you with some unusual abilities… like speaking a language that you had never heard until today."

"Who is she calling an 'it'?" Dez retorted irritably.

"Yeah, I thought you two could understand him, as well. But the blank looks on your faces clued me in." Tristan smirked and continued. "He saw into my mind a bit and I saw into his. That's how he knew we were from the future. He's angry with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, specifically Gryffindor. I think he responsible for his daughter dying. He feels their lust for power is killing the school, so I think he's hiding his treasure from them."

"Ravenclaw did the same to us. I didn't see any of her thoughts, though. I really didn't imagine the Hogwarts founders would be this frightening." Lisa confessed. "I also didn't think we would be sent back to the first age of Hogwarts." She pointed to Cliona and herself. "We're useless to you if we can't understand what they're saying. We can't even split up to look for the treasure, because we can't blend in with the other students since they speak an entirely different language." She took a seat on the floor in the dark room.

"Giving up?" Tristan teased.

"No. There's nothing to do but wait until the castle settles down again." Lisa said plainly.

"What happens if they find us here?" Cliona asked nervously.

Lisa ran her finger across her neck and grinned darkly.

Cliona gulped, walking away from Lisa and Tristan.

It wasn't until now, that Tristan took a look around the room. It was quite enormous on the inside yet completely empty save for a small door on the floor. He approached the door and he could see a thin iron handle that was folded into the framework of the door. He took hold of it and pulled it upward.

The others were startled as a dim light filled the room.

"Tristan what are you doing?" Cliona sounded terrified. "Didn't we just agree that we would wait here?" She kept her distance from the door.

Lisa hopped up and ran towards the dim light. "Looks like a clue! Let's go!" She said brimming with excitement. "Look, there are stairs!"

Lisa took the first steps into the dimly lit room below and soon she had disappeared. "Come on, guys!" She called back reassuringly.

"Come on, Cliona. We have to stick together." Tristan reminded her.

Cliona hesitantly followed Tristan down the dimly lit hatch. As they made their way down the steep steps, they caught up to Lisa who was standing at the base of the stairs. They were standing in a room filled with the glow of the setting sun. Tristan guessed that this room was like the Great Hall and that this was just an enchantment made to imitate the sky outside. The room was lined with plants of unusual size and variety; some which bore fruit and some which had bright colorful flowers. At the very edge of the room there was a row of armchairs situated around a large stone fireplace. A redheaded woman sat in the center chair with her back to them. She was staring into the flames of the fireplace holding what appeared to be a two-handled golden chalice.

The woman didn't seem to notice them as she never stopped humming, even as the children talked amongst themselves wondering if they should approach her. At last the woman spoke.

"Come now children, we mustn't doddle. Have a seat." She said. She had a magnetic energy about her.

Tristan was surprised to see that he was not the only one who could understand her. Not knowing why they were doing it, they all approached the empty chairs surrounding the redheaded woman. Tristan was shocked to see that their names were inscribed in the chairs. They all took their assigned seats obediently.

She looked older than the other founders, perhaps in her late 30's. She wore a long skirt with leg length slits down both sides revealing toned legs and her bare feet with golden nail polish. Her blouse was low cut and she did not wear a cloak. When she looked Tristan in the eyes, his heart began to race. She had the look of a retired supermodel, which was nothing like the portraits that he had seen of her at Hogwarts.

The woman blushed. "The portrait was Sal's idea. He tells me if I keep eating all of this food, it will catch up to me. He thinks I'll look like that one day." She explained, laughing to herself. It was almost if she knew what Tristan was thinking. She smiled at them pleasantly. "My name, as you're well aware, is Helga, but you may call me Professor Hufflepuff. I'm speaking to you in a language that is more familiar to you, so that all of you may hear me and not just Tristan. I've been waiting a long time for you to come here and it appears your situation is more dire than I first suspected."

"Ma'am… Professor, are you saying we will fail?" Cliona asked nervously.

"Perhaps they will, but that all depends on you, dear. The success of the journey relies on you and you only, but you will not be alone." Professor Hufflepuff explained.

Lisa looked outraged. "How do you know we will fail? Every great witch or wizard has had to face even bigger obstacles than this."

"No, they haven't. And a word to the wise Lisa, your ambition may lead you down a dark path. Many have done horrible things for knowledge. You must learn to control your desires." Professor Hufflepuff calmly replied. She then focused on Tristan. "Tristan, for all of the amazing power that you naturally possess, you will find yourself helpless without Cliona. Let her protect you."

"But Professor, I have to protect her. She has no magic, and I feel like it's my fault that she's in this mess."

"It's not your fault, Tristan! I chose to come on this mission!" Cliona paused. "Because I felt I had to protect you, but I didn't know how."

Lisa rolled her eyes irritably.

"You children look like you're starving." Professor Hufflepuff waved her hand and plates of delicious smelling meats and vegetables appeared along with small tables in front of their chairs.

Tristan was so hungry that he didn't stop to think if this was a trick. He began stuffing his face with food. He couldn't believe how delicious it was, perhaps the best he had ever tasted. He could hear that the others were eating as well, and by the sound of it, they were also enjoying the food.

"Professor? Do you know where Slytherin's treasure is?" Lisa asked plainly.

Tristan was shocked that she would ask for it upfront.

"The Gem of Slytherin? No dear and if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. It would not be for me to tell Salazar's secrets. Besides, he began hiding things away from me long ago. Poor, Sal." She had a spacy look on her face. "He was my best student."

Tristan and Cliona gasped.

"This time is very different from the time you come from. Witches and wizards are regularly hunted. I was 17, when I found him. His parents had been murdered but he had managed to escape. Shortly afterwards I found Godric. His mother had died giving birth and his father was killed in a duel. Sal and Ric became fast friends, and their competitiveness helped them grow in magical aptitude quickly. Sal was so lighthearted back then, but Ric has always been a bit of a brute." She sighed. "We traveled the countryside looking for shelter, but it seemed everywhere we went, the angry mobs would find us. Finally, we were taken in by a wealthy family in exchange for me teaching their daughter Rowena how to control her magic. Her power was immense and her parents were quite worried that she would become an Obscurial." Knowing that they did not know what this was, she explained. "An Obscurial is what happens to a witch or wizard that never learns to control their poer." She continued. "I trained them when they were even younger than you three, even though I was young myself." Hufflepuff locked eyes with Tristan. "Slytherin is a kind man, but the world is filled with non-magic folks killing our kind and that has made his distrust for them great. And now with the death of his daughter by a student of non-magical lineage, the anger in him is growing stronger. Tristan, I say that to say, 'you have a darkness in you that is not your own. You have several important choices to make. Don't let the darkness decide for you. Don't let it take control."

Tristan nodded but deep down he felt violated that she knew him better than he knew himself. He pushed away his half-eaten plate.

"Come on let's go!" He stormed away from Professor Hufflepuff but was surprised when no one followed him. His head swiveled from Lisa to Cliona. "What's wrong with you two? We probably only have about four hours to find that 'Gem of Slytherin!'"

Lisa stood up from her chair, still chewing food. "Your right, Tristan." She said as pieces of food dropped from her mouth. "Let's go!"

"Well… guys… I think I'm going to stay here until you find it. I'm not much use to you without magic; I can't even fit in. Ravenclaw was able to easily detect that I was a squib." She frowned and remained seated.

"Alright then. We'll be back for you Cliona. That's a promise." Tristan replied as he and Lisa climbed out of the secret room in the floor.

They spent the next two hours trying to find a Slytherin student that was headed back to their common room. When they were finally able to spot an unsuspecting young Slytherin boy headed back to his dorm, they followed him down several passageways that were unfamiliar to Tristan. The boy stopped before a large conspicuous Slytherin banner. As he reached out his hand, the banner rolled up and revealed a heavy wooden door. The boy turned the handle, opening the door wide enough for Tristan to see inside.

"This is definitely Slytherin's dormitory but it's not in the dungeon." He whispered to Lisa.

"Yeah and there doesn't appear to be a password either. These ancient wizards were way too trusting!" She went to reach for the door handle, but Tristan grabbed her arm.

"I don't think what we're looking for is here. I reckon it's down in the dungeon, where Slytherin house is in our time. Slytherin seemed very protective of whatever's down there." Tristan explained.

"Maybe it's the Chamber of Secrets." Lisa suggested.

"The what?" Tristan asked.

"The Chamber of Secrets. I've read everything I could find on the history of Hogwarts and one thing that kept appearing is this so-called Chamber of Secrets. A shrine of sorts." She sighed. "But, like the diadem of Ravenclaw, it's never been found."

"So you think it's located in the area where modern Slytherin house is? That makes no sense."

"Why not? The Chamber could have many entrances. Maybe Slytherin moved his house to the dungeons because the other founders were onto him. Maybe in our time, that entrance to the Chamber is destroyed." Lisa replied.

"I guess it's worth a shot." He murmured.

Do to the loud noise caused by apparition, Tristan and Lisa decided to run back down to the dungeon. Unfortunately they became lost and took them nearly an hour to find their way again. The castle was larger and many of its corridors were different entirely. Nevertheless, they finally managed to find their way back to the dungeon wall that would eventually lead to the Slytherin dormitory.

Lisa looked at wall closely, sliding her hand along the cold, damp stones. She stopped at a section of the wall and focused in on it closely. "Hmm, there are some tiny snake carvings in this stone." She continued to stare at the small markings.

For the next hour, they tried every Latin phrase they could think of to get the stone wall to reveal its secrets but to no avail. Tristan even tried using flame spells to blow an opening in the wall but his bright flames were absorbed into the stone.

"It's no use, Lisa. We have to go back home and do some more research. We have no idea how to access the Chamber." Tristan said, a note of defeat in his voice. "Let's get Cliona and go."

"WE CAN'T LEAVE YET! WE'RE SO CLOSE!" Lisa screamed, a hint of hysteria in her voice. "I'm so close." She whispered to herself. She pounded on the stone wall in frustration, then grimaced in pain.

"There's no time. We can always come back. We got here before; we can do it again." Tristan said comfortingly as he approached Lisa. He reached out to take hold of her shoulder so that they could apparate back to the room where they had left Cliona.

Lisa held out a hand in protest. "Wait!" She yelled. "The Diadem of Ravenclaw. If Ravenclaw is in this time, then the diadem must also exist in this time. Coupled with what we know, we could figure this out!"

"What's a diadem?" Tristan asked.

"It's like a crown thing or a tiara." She explained, using her hands to describe the size and shape of it. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!" She said to herself as a mantra. "The wearer of the diadem is given immense knowledge. With that, we can figure everything out."

Tristan reached for her outstretched arm. "There's no time."

He apparated on the spot.

Moments later, they were back in front of Helga Hufflepuff. She was sitting there patiently still staring at the contents of her golden cup. Cliona was sitting in the chair, staring at Hufflepuff as if she had just been interrupted mid speech.

"Come on, Cliona! We don't have much time left; I can feel it." Tristan shouted.

"Not much time at all." Helga agreed.

Cliona ran over to Tristan. "Can you take us both again?"

"Apparate? No, I don't think so. My magic has worn thin since earlier. We need to get back to the tree by foot and fast!" Tristan replied anxiously.

The trio climbed from the room and out into the third-floor corridor hallway.

"I'm sorry Tristan, but I'm going to the Ravenclaw dormitories. I have to give it one more try!" Lisa didn't wait for a reply. She took off running in the opposite direction.

Tristan tried to run after her, but Cliona gripped him tightly. "She's made her decision, let's go."

"But what if she ceases to exist?! I can't let her die!" Tristan shouted back.

"Tristan, she made her decision! There's nothing we can do about it."

"Fine! I'll apparate you to the tree and go back for her." He grabbed hold of Cliona's arm and a blinding white light washed over both of them.

 **Chapter 14: Once More With Feeling**

Tristan awoke in his dorm the next day exhausted from the activities the night before. He tossed and turned in his four-poster bed for a while before ultimately deciding that he'd better not miss breakfast. He yawned as he reached for a balled-up pile of clothes. He looked around the room and saw that it was empty."

"Oh, not again!"

He put on his uniform in a hurry and rushed down to the Great Hall for the last bit of breakfast before lessons.

No one looked twice at him as he ran across the Great Hall to take a seat at the end of the table of his peers. He looked up to see the headmaster beaming at him. He waved his wand and a plate of sausage and porridge appeared before Tristan, as well as cutlery. Tristan smiled in gratitude. He began eating without lifting his head but was surprised when only minutes later a first-year girl ran into the Great Hall; apparently, she was running late as well. She was carrying an enormous, grey leather-bound book with both arms. She looked flustered as she marched over to the Slytherin Table. Instead of eating, she sat the large book in front of her and began reading.

After breakfast the Ravenclaws marched up to their first lesson of the day, Potions. As he made his way through the castle, he could faintly hear someone calling his name. He turned but was caught up in the rush of students, ultimately yielding to their momentum.

In Potions he found himself staring out of the window onto the Hogwarts grounds, wishing he was somewhere else. He got scolded by the professor twice for mixing the wrong ingredients into his cauldron and his partner Alder Atkinson, a scrawny boy with a large mouth and little eyes, clicked his teeth loudly in disappointment.

"We're going to get low marks this lesson because of you!" Alder whispered angrily under his breath. "Lady Ravenclaw will not have us performing lower than the students in other houses. She'll kick us out!"

"Okay, okay! You made your point!" Tristan shot back loudly.

Professor Yaxley turned towards them, saying a million words with his disapproving stare. Alder turned red from embarrassment.

Alder didn't talk to Tristan again until after lunch, during their Dueling lessons. They shared this class with the students of Gryffindor House.

"Some of you have been slacking in your training!" Professor Gryffindor paced back in forth in front of the students who were divided up into two lines. "You must remember why it is we do this! The nonmagical community wants us dead but we will not go quietly into the night. You must be brave! You must be strong!" He signaled for Tristan and Jonah, the top Gryffindor student, to join him in front of the class. "Surely Ravenclaw has taught you that it takes more than a philosophical mind to protect yourself."

The Gryffindors sniggered under their breaths. Jonah smiled and ran his fingers through his long blonde hair.

"Take your positions." Gryffindor instructed.

Tristan and Jonah approached each other and bowed. They took several paces away from one another and then turned to face each other again. Jonah was the first to launch his spell.

He spoke with a booming commanding voice. "Tolle vestimentum!" A jet of purples light rushed across the room.

For some reason, Tristan wasn't nervous. He felt as if he had done this many times before. He saw the purple light approaching him in slow motion and barely batted an eye as he stepped to the side. The spell blew right past him.

The Ravenclaws hooted silently in approval.

Jonah's cool and calm demeanor faltered for a bit, and then he circled around Tristan before casting the spell again. "Tolle vestimentum!"

This time Tristan decided to show off as he cartwheeled out of the way. The purple light hit a Gryffindor boy in the stomach and his clothing disintegrated leaving him in nothing but his under garments.

All of the student erupted in laughter.

"Fight back!" Jonah shouted.

"Okay." Tristan answered calmly. "Fortis pugnus."

Sparkly blue light emitted out of Tristan's wand at break-neck speed.

"Protego!" Jonah yelled, but it was much too late.

The sparkly blue spell took shape as a fist and hit Jonah in the nose, with a loud crunch. Blood poured from his nose.

"Clara sole." Tristan spoke softly.

A brilliantly bright orb emitted from Tristan's wand, slowly growing in size and in brightness. Jonah and the other students shielded their eyes.

When the spell subsided, Jonah opened his eyes to see that he and Tristan were nose to bloody nose. Tristan gave him a moderately heavy kick to the shin and then snatched his wand.

"I win." Tristan said unenthusiastically.

He tossed the wand to Gryffindor and then walked to the back of the line of Ravenclaws. Jonah was still soothing his bruised shin and broken nose.

"I want another go at him, Sir!" Jonah shouted in a nasally voice. His nose was beginning to swell now. Gryffindor was stewing in silent fury and did not respond. He threw Jonah's wand at his feet and pointed towards the line of Gryffindors.

That was amazing! Alder whispered. "I can't believe you beat a Gryffindor! We're always losing to them in dueling. They shouldn't even teach dueling at Hogwarts, it's pointless if the other side doesn't have magic."

Tristan caught a flash of something zooming towards him, it was a dim orange stream of magic. Without thinking a wall of flame appeared between himself and the spell. The flames towered almost as high as the ceiling. And it was as if the flames responded to his thoughts. A long, clawed, fiery hand burst out from the wall of flames. It was moving quickly at Jonah while he stood there frozen in fear. His wand dropped to the floor. The other Gryffindors ran as the clawed hand reached to take hold of Jonah and in an instant-

Gryffindor swung his might sword, and the entire spell turned to vapor. There was no wall, no flame, only smoke.

Tristan realized that he had been in some sort of trance and was surprised to see that the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had taken shelter far away from him. He was even more surprised to see the professor standing in front of him with his sword drawn.

"Professor I'm sorry-" Tristan started but Gryffindor cut him off.

"Class will be dismissed for the day! I want all of you to focus on the readings about defensive spells for next time." He called out. "Tristan, Jonah, I need to have a word with you both."

When the other students had cleared out, Tristan and Jonah stood before Professor Gryffindor. He spoke to Jonah first.

"Mr. Malfoy, not only did you lose in a fair duel, but you attacked an opponent without warning. That show bad form and a lack of honor. Not only that, but you launched a sneak attack and you still couldn't win." Gryffindor stared down at him angrily. "It's clear you don't belong in this house the bares my name. Maybe Hufflepuff will take you in, because it's clear you're no Gryffindor. Get out of my sight."

Jonah ran from the room crying. Tristan felt bad for him.

"As for you Mr. Bellwether, I believe your talents are better suited for my house than Malfoy's. I can show you how to use that power of yours. You could be great, you know." Gryffindor explained.

"Thank you, sir. But, I'm not sure I'm ready to make that switch yet." Tristan replied.

Gryffindor laughed. "I see. 'Wit beyond measure, is man's greatest treasure.'"

Those words stirred something inside of him. "What's that from?"

"It's a saying that Lady Ravenclaw always repeats. She thinks that brains alone can give you power." He smiled. "Like I said Tristan, you're greater than her house. Think about it."

Tristan nodded and Gryffindor dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Tristan started to walk away but he remembered something and turned back to ask a question.

"Sir?" he began. "When I last saw you, you were clear across the room. How did you close the distance so fast?"

Gryffindor grinned. "Apparition. When it's truly mastered, there should be no sound when you move from place to place."

Tristan's eyes went wide. "You truly are amazing, sir."

At dinner, the Ravenclaws treated Tristan like he was a hero. The other first years fought to sit next to him and many of them couldn't wait for him to tell them how he learned the fire spell. He told them that he didn't know he knew the spell, and that the magic had instinctively shot out of him.

"Gryffindors say we're heading for a war with the non-magical community. I'm glad you're on our side!" A small redhead boy chimed in.

"I don't think they'll be a war." Tristan replied. " I think that they'll probably forget we exist."

The Ravenclaws within earshot erupted in laughter.

Tristan continued. "And we'll probably make fun of them for that and call them no-mag or muggle or something like that."

"Muggle? That's absurd." Said a lanky third year student.

"Yeah, I don't where that idea came from." Tristan said through continuous laughter.

Ravenclaws continued laughing and cheering throughout dinner to the point where the students at the other tables were getting irritated. Tristan barely noticed as Jonah entered the Great Hall late. His broken nose had been mended but he walked in sulking sort of way. He walked past the Gryffindor table gazing at it longingly, and he sat down by himself at the end of the Slytherin house table. Tristan also noticed that he was now wearing Slytherin colors. He didn't think Gryffindor was serious about kicking Jonah out, but apparently, he was. Thankfully, Slytherin took him in.

After dinner, Tristan had a feeling that he'd better get to the library to do some studying. While he was walking through the corridor, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

He turned to see a girl around his age, but he had never seen her before, nor did she wear Hogwarts attire. He was alarmed but decided to keep calm.

"Tristan! I've been trying to contact you all day! I'm glad you're safe. It's good to know that Lisa's stupid theory about you guys ceasing to exist was just that, a theory. Ugh! I'm so mad at her! She should have never dragged us along on this stupid treasure hunt of hers! Now we're stuck in this bizarre past world-thing."

Tristan was starting to get very nervous. He thought at first that she may be a spy from the non-magical community, but now he was starting to believe that she might be completely mad.

"The Tree!" she said loudly. "We have to get back to the Tree! Come on!" she grabbed Tristan's hand and tried to lead him away.

While he didn't want to attack her, he still felt a deep uneasiness about the situation. He did the next best thing.

"Help!" Tristan shouted.

The girl looked hurt and betrayed. She let go of Tristan and ran off.

Tristan lay in his bed that night thinking about the girl from earlier in the day. The more he thought about her, the more familiar she seemed. Like he had known her in some past life, years ago. He stared up at the ceiling, contemplating if he was going mad like that girl.

A loud bang broke through the darkness and he was surprised not to see the other boys in his room sit up in alarm. He thought he might have imagined it, but the banging continued. At one point in the night, the castle almost seemed to shake, and Alder sat up in his bad wearily. He looked around for a moment, and then laid right back down.

Tristan attempted to calm his nerves by assuring himself that it was some sort of bizarre storm and before long he had drifted into an awkward sleep.

A hand grasped him tightly around the wrist. He shot up in bed and was face to with a beautiful redheaded woman with a crazed look in her eyes. She wore a Hogwarts cloak with torn clothing underneath. Her blouse was cropped, and Tristan could see that she had rock hard abdominal muscles. She wore a sash around one shoulder with arrows in it and she had a bow slung across the other shoulder. Tristan couldn't help but feel entranced by how beautiful she was, but he nearly screamed when he realized that she was covered in blood.

Her hand shot to his mouth and silenced him. "Tristan, you have to come with me. The castle is under attack and I've been instructed to take you somewhere safe." She explained.

She was incredibly strong and almost tossing him across the room while pulling him out the bed. She shoved a pile of his clothes in his hands.

He struggled to put on his cloak and shoes before she had a hold of him again, yanking him along. Moments later, there was the sound of an explosion and the castle shook violently. Tristan new that the other students would be waking soon Surely even they couldn't sleep through this.

"Come on, Tristan. We don't have much time." The woman said irritably.

She dragged him by his wrist and led him out of the castle. When they reached the forest outside of the Hogwarts grounds, she let go of him. She pulled the bow off her back and fitted an arrow.

"What's that for?" Tristan asked nervously.

"Just in case we're attacked." She answered firmly. "Follow me closely."

Against his better judgment, he decided to take a chance and follow this strange woman through the forest. It was a long stretch of running and Tristan was trying his hardest not to stumble over fallen branches. The woman stopped as soon as a large old tree came into view.

"Alright Tristan, I need you to go through that whole in the tree." She said, a sense of urgency in her voice.

"But why?" he asked.

"In there you will be protected from all attacks. You will be safe." The woman almost sounded motherly, if not for her blood-soaked clothing.

All of a sudden, memories started coming back to him. He remembered this tree and he remembered that the last time he saw it, he was not alone.

"But there's something I'm missing… Someone." He was frowning hard trying to think. "I think her name was Cliona."

Emotion rushed over the woman's face when she heard the name. She no longer looked like a crazed warrior, and more like person in mourning. "I'm sorry Tristan. But that girl you knew is dead."

"Cliona… dead?" Tristan was overwhelmed with emotion but he didn't know why. Why did he care about this girl Cliona? Who was she?

"Why am I so sad?" He asked the woman. "I feel like I cared a great deal for her."

The woman shouldered her bow and reached at her belt pulling out a wand. "I believe this belongs to you." She said smiling through tears.

She whispered something under her breath, wiped tears from her eyes, and then presented the wand to Tristan. Tears now pouring from his eyes as well. "Thank you for everything, Q. I never would have made it without you."

A blinding red light shot through the night. The woman turned quickly but had no time to react defensively. She grimaced and she jumped in front of Tristan, hands outstretched defensively to protect him.

A wall of fire solidified before her, swallowing the beam of light.


	5. Chapter 15-17(Final) Prologue

**Chapter 15: The Life of Cliona**

It was a bright beautiful morning and a warm breeze swept over the meadow. Sprawled out in the tall grass lay a small body; eyes closed, silent, still. Inches away from its right hand lay a dark, blood red wand. As the moments ticked by, the fingers on the right hand of its body began to twitch uncontrollably like insect antennae. Next the legs began to shake, until finally the body broke out into spasms. This continued on for several moments until the child shot up into sitting position, looking around terrified.

The body, now filled with so much life, reached over and took hold of the crimson wand. "A wand, how did I…?" Dropping the wand, the body stood up and looked across the meadow confused, well it was no longer just a body since it was filled with life once more.

A brilliant light emitted from the wand as a boy crawled out from the light. He was chiseled and his skin was bronze in complexion. He had a bowl haircut with shaved hair on the sides of his head. He wore a breechcloth with leggings made from animal skin as well as a dark feathered vest. He looked confused and worried.

"Wait! Don't run!" he shouted! He held is hands out in a pacifying manner. "Good. Let me explain." He sighed. "Whatever spell keeps this place existing has rejected us for some reason. For me, I think it's because some version of me exists in this dimension. For you, I think it's because you're neither a wizard nor a muggle." He explained. "Cliona, please don't run!"

At the sound of her name the girl turned, still confused. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Tristan's wand, Cuauhtémoc. Well, I guess I'm your wand now. For lack of better explanation, I'm a living wand." He offered.

Cliona looked at him with intense scrutiny. "If I couldn't see you before, how come I can see you now?"

"By picking me up, you took ownership of me. Ordinarily it would take more, like winning a duel, but Tristan has been incapacitated so I don't have an owner." He said sadly.

"Tristan! That's right! What happened to Tristan?!" Cliona shouted, suddenly snapping back to herself. She ran a finger through her hair before continuing. "Did he make it back?"

"No, I don't think so. My guess is that he may have become a part of this reality."

"So, we're still here? The last thing I remember was that we were trying to get back to the Tree." She looked across the field and could see what she figured was the Tree in the not-so-far-off distance. "We have to rescue him, Q! Sorry I all I heard was "Q" when you said your name." she said sheepishly.

He laughed. "I'd like to help. Take me with you."

 **Day 1**

My name is Cliona. I found this journal at Hogwarts today. I went there hoping to find my friends Tristan and Lisa (more so Tristan, I DON'T like Lisa). To my surprise it wasn't that hard to find Tristan because his wand, Q can kind of sense his presence. Well, I guess Q is my wand now, even though I can't do magic.

I found Tristan walking amongst a small crowd of students. I called his name, but he didn't turn to see who it was. I think the magic here has him believing that he is actually a student at ancient Hogwarts.

After dinnertime, I was able to pull him aside but he was really alarmed. I explained to him that he was experiencing the effects of a spell and that we had to find Lisa and get back to The Tree. He was taking it all fairly well, which was a relief to me, but when I turned to lead him away, he screamed for help.

I had to run for my life, because I didn't want to be caught by that Ravenclaw woman again. The last time I saw her, she probed my mind and it was really painful. Oh well. Tomorrow will be better. I'll be more subtle.

 **Day 2**

I woke up today determined to succeed. My father always says, "Success starts in the mind."

I felt bad for not thinking of this earlier, but I checked on Bonnie. Bonnie is Tristan's/my pet boggart. Most boggarts are quite terrifying, but Bonnie is not most boggarts. She was still tucked away in the small flask around my belt. Boggarts like dark places, so I didn't bother opening the dark glass flask, but I could see her purple form swirling peacefully behind the tinted glass.

I ventured to the castle again today and to my surprise, I remembered how to get to the Slytherin common room. I stole some extra robes from one of the students. I figured it would be best to blend in. Today, like yesterday Tristan was walking with a small crowd of students. It took a bit of effort to push through the crowd, but I managed to catch up to him.

"Hey Tristan!" I said.

"Hi! Sorry, have we met?" he replied politely. "I'm not the best with names."

"Yes, as a matter of fact we have! I actually saw something that you might be interested in and I want to show you." I gave him a warm smile.

"Okay!"

The closer we got to the front door of Hogwarts, the more I could tell he was becoming wary of me. When we finally stepped out onto grounds of the castle, he turned back to look at the massive castle doors.

"I have lessons soon. I can't go too far." He looked nervous. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Cliona."

At the sound of my name, he had some faint recognition go across his face, but it quickly turned to an expression of confusion.

"Sorry, I don't know a Cliona. I'm sure of it." He grimaced. "I should go."

I grabbed him by the arm in panic. "No, we have to get back to The Tree!"

One thing that I had never considered was how strong Tristan was. He easily snatched his arm from my grasps, pushed me to the ground defensively. He began to back away, so I pulled out the crimson wand.

He screamed, drawing a short gray wand and pointing it at me. "Stop!"

Instantly realizing how it looked, I dropped the wand, and put my hands in the air. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Tristan. I'm your friend!"

"Stay away from me! You're trying to lure me away so that those wizard hunters can get me. For some reason I can sense that you don't have magic, which makes me even more cautious."

Tears began pouring from my eyes. "Tristan, please! I'm trying to help you!"

He backed his way back into the castle, shutting the doors behind him. I tried to follow him, but the doors were locked.

Q was now standing there, staring at me angrily. "Never drop your wand, Cliona!"

 **Day 10**

Every attempt I made to connect with Tristan has failed thus far. He cannot be easily persuaded or overpowered. He's very intelligent and kind of scary when he gets angry.

I sat there in the woods leaning against an old tree. Q sat in front of me, with his legs crossed.

"Perhaps we're going at this the wrong way." He said.

"Maybe we can try saving Lisa first. If we can convince her, maybe we can get her to convince Tristan." I added.

Q nodded. "It's worth a shot."

"Well, let's give it a go!" I replied enthusiastically.

"Your resolve is admirable. Most would have given up and left him to his own fate." Q explained.

"I won't leave without him. He risked his life to save me. I'll never give up on him." Lisa confirmed.

As we headed up to the castle, I thought about how miserable it was to sneak into the castle night after night, just to find scraps of food. This is probably the hardest thing I've ever done and I know had to search the enormous castle for Lisa.

We searched for the entire morning, until finally Q suggested that we hangout near the Great Hall and wait for her to come down for lunch. I didn't like this idea because if I startled her, it would be all too easy for her to call for assistance.

When lunchtime came, Lisa was nowhere to be found.

"Guess this plan's not going to work either." I said solemnly.

"Let's think of what we know." Q began. "We know that she's normally a Ravenclaw, but when we see Tristan, we never see her. She must be in a different house. If I had to guess, it would probably be Slytherin. She doesn't strike me as a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff."

I nodded. "Also, I think she likes mixing potions and stuff. She a bit mad, you know."

"That's right! Let's see. We just need to wait somewhere near the potions class and she's sure to show up at some point in the day."

Sure enough, Q's plan worked. Although there was no lesson going on at the moment, Lisa was sitting on the floor in the center of the room throwing potions into a cauldron. She seemed exceedingly happy.

"Yes, yes, soon I will cure death!" a broad smile spread across her face.

"Oi!" I called out.

Lisa looked up disinterested and went back to her potion. She threw in a handful of four-leaf clovers and stirred.

"Lisa, if you come with me, I can show you the way to cure death." I told her.

"Really?" She was interested now.

"Yes, have you um… heard about the Gem of Slytherin?" I asked.

"Yes, of course I have!" she shouted back. Her greedy eyes looked me up and down. "Do you have it?!"

"Slytherin's gem, eh?" a familiar voice called from behind me. "And what would you know about that? I hear it's well hidden."

My heart sank as I turned around to lock eyes with none other than Salazar Slytherin.

"So sorry, I don't think we've met young lady. You wear my house color, but I've never seen you before. What's worse is, I don't sense any magical abilities in you." He was looking at me with deep curiosity. His way of studying me made me feel small. Nevertheless, he didn't raise his voice. He turned to Lisa, "Come Lisa, you're late for your Dark Arts lessons."

She sighed in frustration and followed him out of the room. The two of them walked off, but Slytherin stopped.

"I suggest you get out of here before Gryffindor or Ravenclaw sees you. They don't care much for squibs and you may find yourself in the dungeons." He told me solemnly without looking back.

Lisa turned and gave me a grin as she and Slytherin walked off.

 **Day 126**

I spent most of the day crying. I didn't have the heart to go to Hogwarts today. Each time I've tried, I've either been caught by Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, or all three of them. I've been locked up, given truth serum, and hit with all manner of jinxes. Surprisingly though, their magic has had very little effect on me. I think it must have something to do with the citrine pendant Hufflepuff gave me that night we first came to this world.

Tristan and Lisa had left on their now failed attempt to find the Gem of Slytherin. Hufflepuff told me many things, including that I would need to get much stronger in order to save them. She told me, that my weakness would be my greatest strength before telling me to hold onto her citrine pendant. The chain of which was very thin, and the citrine stone was set inside a golden bowl.

I hadn't realized that it had any magical properties until I was using my wand one day to threaten Lisa. She hit me with a spell meant to disarm me, but my hand barely shook. The more run ins I had with the students and teachers of Hogwarts, the more I realized how powerful the pendant was.

Nevertheless, it did nothing to help me solve the problem which I found myself in. I was unable to pull Tristan or Lisa from the continuous, maddening loop that they had been trapped in for months.

That's why today I decided to keep my distance. I made my way deep into the heart of the forest. In my own time the forest had a spooky quality, but not this version of it. It was very peaceful and quiet. As I walked deeper into the forest, I began to hear hooves in the far-off distance.

I knew it must be centaurs. They're not known to be friendly, but I didn't care, I wanted to get as far away from that horrible castle as possible.

An hour later, I saw them. Three centaurs approached me looking angry. The leader of the three tried to order me to turn around and go back to Hogwarts.

"You're off your loop, human girl!" He barked irritably.

I approached without a care in the world.

He drew his bow and notched an arrow on the string. "I'm warning you child. I don't want to, but I will shoot you."

He was surprised to see that I kept stepping forward while laughing hysterically. "I'm not going back. Not to that horrible loop." I replied eerily amused.

The centaur lowered his bow. "You're from the outside world, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Curious. The magic in this place causes all humans to be drawn into the loop. You appear to be exempt for some reason. Consider yourself blessed. Go home, child."

"I won't leave! Not without my friends!" I shouted at him.

He frowned but appeared sympathetic. He stared at me for a long while before finally seeming to concede something to himself. He sighed. "Follow me."

 **Day 1095**

I returned to the castle today. It had been 729 days since I set foot on Hogwarts grounds. I've grown a lot and my robes no longer fit, so I had to sneak in to steal some more clothes. I know everyone's routine now. I avoided detection, but on my way out I saw him. He seemed happy. He was talking with a group of Ravenclaw boys who were excited by some impressive feat he had performed. We didn't speak.

When I arrived home, I got back to my chores for the day. I am the Clan and the Clan is me. They taught me their language, how to hunt, how to fight, how to read the stars, and how to be one with the land. I may not be a centaur, but they never made me feel as if I don't belong. I love them, they are my family.

 **Day 1825**

I killed someone today. I had to. The war between the clans was escalating and they attacked my village. This is my home! I couldn't stand aside as the neighboring clan attacked.

They attacked my dear friend Roya and her family. I watched as a large barbaric looking male centaur, slashed her brother's throat and stomped him to death.

I took my bow, fitted an arrow, and fired. Though my eyes were stained with tears, my aim was true. The brute lifted his sword to bring it down on Roya, but the arrow found its way under his rib cage and into his heart, just like I was taught.

I watched as he fell on his side. I stood over him as he took his last breaths.

At the sight of their leader dying, the rest of his clan retreated. I hate them but I hate that I had to kill anyone.

 **Day 2489**

Today is a special day. I was never very good at math, but I believe it's my birthday. I didn't tell anyone. Centaurs love birthdays and they always ask when my exact birthdate is. Roya assigned me a random day, and she wasn't that far off. She knows me so well.

Today I decided to venture outside of this reality. I asked our leader Yomok what is beyond the loop. He said the real world.

"I've told you before, Ninuk." He only called me by my centaur name since the day he decided to take me in instead of killing me. "The old wizard loved us. He wanted to create a world where magical creatures could live without persecution from wizard-kind. So, on March 9, 1001, he plucked this land from reality and set it on a loop."

"So what happens if you leave the loop?" I asked, trying to hide my frustration.

"If you walk out of the loop, you will re-enter the world on March 9, 1001." He explained simply.

This was surprising to me. I had always figured there was only one way in and out of this place. Turns out I was wrong.

Around midday, I packed a rucksack full of necessities for a day trip. I wasn't exactly sure how long it would take to reach the edge of this reality, so I packed some dried fruit as well. Grabbing my favorite dagger, and putting my bow around my shoulders, I headed off.

I walked for an entire day and still nothing. This land was vaster than I had imagined.

 **Day 2493**

After over three days of walking, I reached a section of forest covered in fog. Through the fog I could faintly see a small village. As I continued to walk, the fog cleared, and I was standing on a dirt road. At the end of the road were small, wooden houses. I followed the road into the town, and began to walk around hoping to see another human face that was not a Hogwarts student.

To my surprise, the town square was alive with people. Many of the villagers wore well worn, handmade clothes that weren't too different than the clothes that I had found in Hogwarts castle. It seems wizards in this time worked harder at blending in. The only thing that differentiated me from the townspeople was my long dark cloak.

Some people stared at me as I passed by, but others must have assumed I was a traveler from a distant land passing through.

An hour into exploring, I passed a long brown building. Though there were no glass windows in this time, the building had panes made of flattened animal horns. They were open and I could see a row of men sitting at a long table talking loudly. What caught my eye, was the fact that there was a dark-skinned man sitting there amongst a town of all white villagers. No one batted an eye.

I could tell that this was a communal establishment, so I walked into the open front door. Instantly, there attention was on me, and I felt deeply uncomfortable from their creepy stares. The black man gave me a quick glance and then looked away uninterested. He looked to be at least ten years older than me, I guessed about early thirties. Though he was seated I could tell he was tall; he wore a cloak that looked expensive. It was a thick leather that looked like dragon-hide. I'd seen many dragons while living with the centaurs, and dragon-hide was easy to recognize. He wore black pants and black leather boots. He had the sides of his hair cut low and his black hair on top of his head was braided back into a long ponytail. Most importantly, even from the brief glance of him, I could tell that he was extraordinarily handsome.

A man stood up from the long wooden table. He was wobbly on his feet and I could tell he must have been under the influence of something. He stumbled over but not before he was cut off by an older man with rotten teeth.

"This young lass is mine, she is!" He belted out eagerly.

Suddenly, a third man decided that he was destined to be with me, because he shouted, "Aren't ye a gorgeous thing."

I was nervous now and began to back myself into a wall. I made to reach for my knife, but a hand grabbed mine, causing the knife to be pushed back down into its sheath.

Pulling away, I almost slammed into the wall, but the hand pulled me back firm but gentle. Looking up I saw a set of pearly white teeth. The man had a gorgeous smile, and his eyes were the kindest I'd seen since Tristan. He was even more beautiful up close.

"I think we should get out of here. The men here aren't used to gorgeous women frequenting this bar." He took my hand in his and led me out of the bar.

At his touch, chills rushed over my body. I knew I was blushing and tried to look away as he led me towards an opening in the houses. When we were away from prying eyes, he released my hand. I wish he hadn't though.

"You're clearly not from here." He said with a charismatic laugh.

The tall black man stood before me confidently. I could now make out large patches of gray in his hair and it suited him so well. His poise was mesmerizing; he was so cool.

"Miss?"

I almost jumped when Q appeared beside me. I didn't think it was possible, but he had tears in his dark brown eyes.

"I'm Martin. Martin Bellwether, nice to meet you."

" _Oh no!"_ I thought to myself. This was Tristan's father, and I was madly in love with him.

"And who are you?" He continued.

"Ninuk!" I answered without thinking. "Sorry! Umm… uh… Cliona! That's what I'm called." I said suddenly, correcting myself.

"Nice to meet you Ninuk Cliona!" he said cordially.

"No, it's just Cliona." I smiled my cheeks were burning. Why oh why did this have to be Tristan's dad? "

"How did you get here?" I blurted out without thinking. "I went through the hole in the tree and wound up in the looping reality. I'm surprised I never saw you there."

Martin's smile faded. He went from playful to somewhat serious. "It's more than a loop. It's a different world altogether, where all that exists are pieces of select individuals frozen in time. But for magical creatures, they live, age, and die like we would our world." He explained. "As for why you didn't see me, it's because we were there in different years, but when we leave, we all end up in the same year; March 9, 1001."

"That's incredible! So, when you go back, what day will it be?" I asked curiously.

"We're attached to our loops as long as you carry an item from that reality on your persons at all times. If you don't, you will lose hold of the loop you belong to. You may go back in and 100 years have passed. If that happened without you knowing, when you got back to the real world, advanced aging would kick in and you'd die." He smirked. "But I'm going to figure out a way to beat that. I stayed in that loop for a full year without having my memory wiped and I'm going to find a way to back to my time, _the real world not that fake reality_ , without have to go back through The Tree."

"But what if you fail?" I asked.

"I won't." He replied. "I have a woman that I love. I promised Cissy that I'd come back to her. That is if she wants me back."

My heart fell at this news. I knew that he was Tristan's father, but he was the first man I had seen in so long that could empathize with my situation. I gave him a bashful smile and thanked him for saving me from the perverted men back at the bar.

"Can I walk you back, to your loop?" He asked. "It's been awhile since I've talked to another person from magical community and it feels nice."

"Sure."

As we walked, my curiosity got the best of me. "So why would Cissy not want you back?"

Martin faltered and his temperament turned tense. He tried to hide his emotions by looking away but the stress was evident in his voice. "We… lost a child."

My heart sank deep within my stomach.

"The thing is, I'm cursed. My father is probably the most powerful alchemist to ever live. But he's evil. He made me to be a vessel for himself. He figured out how to extract the essence from what was the most powerful fire being known to man, the Salamander. He took that essence and put it in the body of his newborn son. What was more, in order to stabilize that immense energy, he spliced parts of nearly every foul creature he could find: werewolf, boggart, pixie, doxy, and even dementor." Martin wiped his eyes. "What you see before you is a failed experiment. The darkness is eating me inside, and when I found out my Cissy was pregnant, well I figured it would spread to my child. My fears were realized when he was born… He had no pulse, no heartbeat, no breath. I left that day, and pledged that I wouldn't return until I found a cure for myself."

"I hate what your father did to you!" I told him. I was angry for him. I had seen how that 'curse' had affected Tristan. He was alienated and made to feel like a monster, all because of what his grandfather had done.

I reached out and rubbed his arm. He turned to me and smiled.

"I believe there's a way to cure myself! I know that if I can extract enough of that dark energy, I should be able to control my rage better." Martin said assuring himself.

He then explained that I should not look at my time in the loop dwelling on failure but to take the time to train and grow stronger. He told me that he had spent a long time fighting Gryffindor until he finally bested him. He explained that the battle almost killed him, and save for the help of Hufflepuff, he would have died.

Finally, we reached the area where the fog began to grow thick. I sighed and built up the courage to tell him that I was a squib. I further told him that I was only here because my friends were looking for the Gem of Slytherin and had managed to get them trapped in this world, but somehow it hadn't affected me.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He shouted happily. "I know exactly how to do both."

"Both?" I asked.

"Fix your friends and find the gem." He answered.

"I disarmed Slytherin and took his wand once. I knew he had "the living wand" and I needed to know it's secrets. Turns out I could only learn the secrets of the wizard that I had disarmed. Didn't help me much so I gave it back. But I did learn that the gem is in the Chamber of Secrets and I know how to get there."

He explained the entire process to me in painstaking detail as I tried to take a mental note of this overwhelming amount of information. He put his hand on my shoulder and my heart began to race at his touch.

"I know you'll do well. I can tell you're strong." He said firmly. "And remember this. A wizard is weaker than you. Their weakness is that they rely too much on their magic. For most of them, they do not hone their bodies to be as fit and strong as physically possible. Use this to your advantage." He waved goodbye and thanked me for keeping him company.

"Wait." I said as I took off my rucksack. "Can you promise me something?"

"I think so." Martin answered unsure of himself.

"I'm not sure I'll survive this." I reached in my rucksack pulled out six scrolls, leaving the one I was currently working on. I handed the scrolls to Martin. "Promise me you won't read these… but if I die, can you make sure to give these to the Cobberly's?"

"I know them." Martin sounded surprised. "Why do I feel like you're not telling me something?"

"Because, I have secrets that I must keep, but I want them to know that I didn't die for no reason."

He nodded solemnly and watched as I headed off into the mist.

 **Day 2497**

Today was a hard day for me. I explained to my clan what I had to do. I told them about my chance meeting with Martin Bellwether and my new resolve to save my friends. If things went as planned, I would not be coming back. We exchanged our tearful goodbyes, sang, and danced long into the night.

 **Chapter 16: About Time**

When Cliona awoke that morning, she was filled with a feeling that she hadn't felt in quite some time, dread. She had long since given up on venturing into the castle but today she would attempt to save Tristan and Lisa and retrieve the Gem of Slytherin.

Martin had taught her that the Gem of Slytherin was one of four sister Gems. Slytherin had the Gem of Life, which negated spells meant to kill and granted the wearer with exceeding longevity. Gryffindor had the Gem of Strength, which increased the power of the wearer's spells (this was a ruby fitted into the hilt of his sword). Ravenclaw had the Gem of Wisdom, which increased the wearer's intellect (she fitted this into her diadem). Hufflepuff had the Gem of Protection, which weakened spells used against the wearer (She fitted this into a pendant, the same pendant Cliona wore around her neck.)

As she prepared to leave that day, she grabbed her dagger, her bow, and a sheath for her arrows. Likewise, she took with her a silver tipped spear, that Yomok had gifted to her.

When she reached the castle. Her only course of action was to wait until later that night. There were no classes after dinner and all of the Hogwarts teachers could be found in their offices, except for Snape who ventures out of dinner early to follow Rowena's daughter, Helena, who would be sneaking around the dungeons.

When the lights in the castle had gone dim, Cliona walked in through the main entrance of Hogwarts. She had relived this day so many times that she had it memorized. She dodged every single person on her way to the dungeons. Cliona approached the wall where there were tiny serpents etched into the stone. She whispered the requisite words in the hisses and snarls that Martin had taught her.

When the words did not work, Q appeared beside her laughing. "Here, let me help you."

When she spoke again, the words came out clear. The hissing echoed in her own ears. A passageway appeared in the wall and Cliona followed a set of winding stairs for what must have been dozens of meters down. At the bottom, there was a long dark corridor. She followed it for several minutes before she saw a door at the end with large silver serpents on it. Again, she whispered in parseltongue, and the serpents on the door responded to her beckoning. The door opened revealing a large area that looked like an ancient temple. At the far end of the room was an enormous stone statue of Slytherin.

Cliona looked around the room but didn't see any sign of an emerald jewel. She slowly approached the 40-foot statue that towered out of a pool of murky water. When she stood at its feet, she could make out a faint whisper. To her ears it sounded like a mixture of curses and hisses.

"What is that, Q?" she asked.

A voice replied from inside her head. "It's parseltongue. Would you like me to translate?"

"Yeah." She replied.

"Hmm, let's see. She says, 'I will kill the unworthy who step forward seeking my treasure.' Oh, how pleasant." He mused sarcastically.

"Martin said the basilisk was meant to be pretty big. Can you see if you can get a look at it?"

At that, Q appeared in front of Cliona. He was a man now and he stood tall and muscular. He nodded and walked through the Slytherin statue.

Time seemed to pass slowly until Q came running out of the statue. "Uh… Cliona? You may want to reconsider this plan. The snake is quite large." He shouted.

She ignored him and took several more steps forward. To her astonishment, the mouth of the statue began to move. She almost expected for it to talk but instead something more horrifying happened.

Out of its mouth came an enormous serpent. It was bright green with shiny scales that looked to be as thick as iron. The snake must have been at least 50 feet in length. Cliona stood facing it as it pulled itself up to its full height in front of her.

"Don't look at its eyes!" Q shouted. "They cause death!"

"Wonderful!" Cliona whispered to herself. She kept her eyes focused on the basilisk's body and not its head.

"I will kill you girl. You are no heir of Slytherin." The great serpent hissed in parseltongue.

She held her silver tipped spear aloft and shook it at the snake threateningly. "I will kill you serpent, if you do not step aside." She yelled back at it in its own language.

The basilisk struck without warning, launching itself at break-neck speed. Cliona, who had spent years honing her muscles to keep up with centaurs, proved that her reflexes were much too fast for the basilisk. She easily evaded its attack.

She took her spear and aimed it into the gums of the creature, right above one of its long fangs. The snake bellowed in pain. It shook its head violently, but Cliona managed to keep hold of the spear, yanking it out as the spear as well as her were launched across the room.

She landed with the grace of an acrobat, and as the snake continued to thrash violently, she caught the glimpse of an emerald jewel atop the creature's head.

She looked down at her spear that was now laying at her feet. There was black liquid all over the silver tip. _Martin's words were true, the beast does have poison fangs._ She thought to herself. She pulled her bow from around her shoulders and retrieved an arrow from the quiver on her back. She took the arrow and dipped it in the black ink-like substance that coated the tip of spear.

"Last chance, serpent. Give me that gem that's on your head, or I will slay you." Cliona warned.

"I would never betray my master. He birthed me and he is good to me." The beast spit back in pained hisses.

The basilisk struck again, before Cliona could take proper aim. She shot an arrow before narrowly evading the snake's teeth. Her arrow bounced off the scales on the snake's head. Its body was now in between her and her spear.

The basilisk turned on her and encircled her with its body, lifting its head to look down on her. "There is nowhere to run, girl. Take comfort in knowing that there are few wizards worthy of this treasure. In death, you will still be amongst great company." The snake said gloating. In its arrogance, it failed to see Cliona's arrow as a threat. It failed to notice the tiny arrow as it headed toward its open mouth, and even failed to notice the pain when the arrow, only shallowly grazed the bleeding wound in its gums. It swallowed the miniscule arrow without a second thought.

"Your struggle is futile. I can taste your fear, girl." The basilisk called out mockingly.

She lowered her head to Cliona's eye level, but Cliona looked away.

"Why so sh—" The serpent began to gag as foam dripped from between its teeth. It writhed furiously as the poison from the tip of the arrow began to burry itself deeper into the serpent's gut. The snake began to lose its mind from the pain, slithering headfirst into the closest wall at full speed. Within seconds it had stopped writhing and it was only twitching slightly.

As Cliona approached the head of the snake, it fell quiet. Its head lay in a puddle of its own blood. She stepped through the blood and reached out for the top of the snake's head, where the jewel sat embedded. She used her dagger and pried it from the snake's hard flesh. She was covered in its blood now and wanted desperately to wash it off. Nevertheless, she was happy that her arrow had managed to graze the basilisk's already damaged venom duct and lodge itself into the serpent's digest tract. The poison acted much faster than she had expected.

She turned to leave the Chamber but stopped at the sound of someone's frantic cries. She hurried to hide behind the statue of Slytherin.

"Who did this?!" A voice shouted frantically! "She wearing the Gem of Life, no magic should be able to kill her! Ric, did you finally figure out my secret? You didn't have to kill her though!" He called out distraught.

When no one replied. He screamed, "Answer me!"

Cliona chanced a glance and saw Salazar Slytherin pacing the length of the snake. He had tears in his eyes, and he was fuming with anger.

"You're still here, aren't you?" He asked, not knowing who he was speaking to.

He whispered a spell and the room began to fill with a dark green gas. Cliona couldn't help but cough. She feared that the gas was toxic.

"There you are!" Slytherin shouted. "AHHHHH!" He screamed and dropped his wand.

He belted in pain as an arrow pierced his wand hand, causing him to drop his wand in the dark gas. He murmured a counter spell clear the gas, so that he could pick up his wand but he was too slow. A second arrow sailed through the air, piercing his leg right above his right knee. He dropped to his knees, still reaching for his wand, but Cliona was moving inhumanly fast and rapidly closed the distance, kicking his wand away.

She knew that he could still do magic without a wand, as most powerful wizards could, but the centaurs had taught her that the without one, his magic would be far less focused.

Slytherin tried to summon his wand with his non-injured hand but Cliona raised her knee into his mouth with all of her strength. There was a crunch sound, and Slytherin fell over on the marble floor. Blood dripping from his mouth.

"Who are you girl? And what have I done to you?" He asked miserably through garbled breaths.

"Nothing and everything. Either way, you'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be fine." She pocketed the Gem of Slytherin, put her bow around her shoulders and ran towards the exit of the Chamber hoping to make up for lost time.

Godric Gryffindor appeared at the threshold of the door. He looked down at Slytherin and then at Cliona. He muttered no spells, but as he raised his hand, Cliona felt magic hit her square in the chest. She flew backwards but was saved from the bulk of the spell by the gem given to her by Hufflepuff. She quickly grabbed her bow and fired a shot at Gryffindor, who drew he sword and swatted the arrow away. Cliona tried to run for cover, but the floor beneath her became ice and she fell hard.

She did the only thing she could think to do, an unhooked the glass jar around her belt. Black smoke emitted from the bottle as the corpse of an older woman began to inch its way to Gryffindor. He froze in shock.

"Mom? How are you here?" He paused in confusion and then anger overcame him. "No!" He screamed.

Cliona ran past him, and then whistled for Bonnie, to follow. As she passed through the doorway she turned to go back up the stairs, but felt a spell hit her left leg and cause her to tumble back down towards the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets. Cliona cursed in frustration. _I don't have time for this!_ She thought.

Bonnie disappeared back inside the glass flask.

At this point, Cliona was not surprised to see that Ravenclaw had joined in on the fray. Cliona fled back into the Chamber. Gryffindor had recovered and he was staring at her with cold fury in his eyes. Likewise, Slytherin had managed to retrieve his wand and extract the arrows from his body. Ravenclaw approached the other two founders. They all had their wands aimed at Cliona.

Cliona reached behind her for her quiver, but in all the scuffle, she had dropped her remaining arrows. She threw down her bow and pulled her dagger from its sheath, preparing to die fighting.

"Wait!" A woman yelled. She smiled pleasantly as she walked into the Chamber. "Amazing! Here it is! After all this time, I finally get to see the Chamber of Secrets!"

Helga Hufflepuff was positively beaming. "I couldn't have done this without you, Cliona! No matter how hard I tried, I could not get that bastard Slytherin to reveal to me where the Chamber of Secrets was!"

"Helga, what is the meaning of this?" Salazar demanded.

Hufflepuff waved her hand without looking back and chains wrapped around Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. She made her hand into a fist and the three of them shot off into different directions. She turned back to Cliona smiling. "You did it, young lady! I always believed in you! Now, give me the gem." She held out her hand expectantly.

Cliona stepped back. The look in Helga's eyes startled her. "Why do you need it?"

I need that stone to leave this hell. If I step foot out of this loop into your world, all the years would come back to me. I'd probably turn to dust." She said sadly. "But with that stone, I can live. Live free of this repetitive trap."

"How are you remembering this? You're supposed to be a part of the loop as well—"

"Oh nonsense!" Helga cut her off. "I'm sure Martin told you what the secret to breaking the loops was… memory. If you can maintain just one meaningful memory, then no matter what happens, this place has no power over you, my pendent that repels magic made it easier for me, yes, but I also had this." She pointed to the golden cup, tied to her waist. "The cup lets me divine the past, the present, and the future. Because of it, I forget nothing. I remember every day of the thousands of years I've spent here! I've tried every way to leave, but even the mist spat me back out on this side. So, I gave you the pendant, because my cup told me that you would break the spell for good. A spell that wasn't designed to capture a squib." She reached out her hand again.

Cliona wasn't sure she wanted this version of Helga Hufflepuff in her world. The woman looked psychotic and she seemed to have no problems hurting her friends to get what she wanted.

Helga turned to her impatiently, her face was absolutely terrifying.

"My only escape is into your world, and you will not ruin this for me girl! I could be a god there! If do this thing for me, I will remember you and be kind to you and yours. Now give me the gem! I won't say it again!" She bellowed.

Cliona stood firm. "No."

"Fine! Have it your way!" She raised her wand and aimed it directly at Cliona's chest.

"Do you trust me?" The voice of Q asked gently inside her head.

" _Yes, of course," s_ he thought. " _Without you I would have gone mad. You are the only reason I had the strength to carry on."_

Q appeared face to face with her, a tear in his eye. "Take the wand in your hand."

Without hesitation Cliona, pulled the wand from her belt. She rarely handled the wand and it felt weird between her fingers.

"Direct it at her." Q commanded as he turned to face Hufflepuff.

Helga was almost bent over with laughter. "What are you going to do with that? You? A squib?" She continued to laugh and then her face fell into a sinister grin. "Very well then." She aimed her wand once again and shouted a spell, "AVADA KADAVRA!"

Sickly green light shot from the tip of her wand, rocketing towards Cliona. Q turned to face Helga, standing firm with his arms wide. Cliona was surprised when Helga's spell did not pass through him, it hit him with full force. A blinding white light emitted from Q's entire body as it wrestled with the green light.

Q's knees began to buckle as he struggled to contain Hufflepuff's spell. He shouted in defiance "I…"

Slowly but surely the green energy began to shrink into Q's white light.

"am…"

Finally, he brought the entire spell into his chest and absorbed it.

"Cuauhtémoc! The living wand!" He screamed at the top of his lungs before he and the brilliant light jettisoned into the tip of Cliona's outstretched wand with so much force that she almost lost her grip on it.

Helga stared at Cliona dumbfounded.

"I'm not done yet!" Q shouted from inside Cliona's head.

The brilliant white light shot back out of the wand faster than Cliona's eyes could register. It hit Hufflepuff squarely in her chest, launching her 15 feet into the air. Her limp body dropped onto the cold, hard floor 40 feet away.

"Q, that was amazing!" she said aloud.

She ran for the opened door but crashed into an invisible barrier. She had almost fallen but caught herself. The barrier was strong, and she had banged her head into it. It felt as if she had run face first into concrete. She could taste blood, so she knew that her lip was busted. Her nose was also dripping blood onto the floor.

Out the corner of her eye she saw a deformed shape inching towards her. It was Helga Hufflepuff and she was no longer the elegant woman that Cliona had first met. While her face was mostly untouched, her blouse had been blown away, as well as most of her right arm. Her exposed chest was burned so badly that her sternum was visible. She was foaming at the mouth from the pain. Her eyes were deranged.

 _What kind of spell was she planning on hitting me with?_ Cliona thought to herself. _If it did that to her,_ _surely it would have done much worse to me._

Helga had no wand, for she was righthanded, and her wand was probably destroyed in the rebounding of the spells. She lifted her empty left hand up to her chest, and a soft amber glow emitted from her palms. She sighed as health and vigor began to return to her. Her skin returned back to its soft pink appearance, as if nothing had happened. She was not; however, able to heal her arm. What she did manage to do was stop the bleeding.

Helga turned to Cliona, a sinister smile on her face. "Good show, girl. I must admit. I did not foresee that happening. I must have missed the tea leaf that said a squib would be able to repel magic!" She laughed menacingly. "I'm going to enjoy making you suffer. This place wasn't designed for squibs, but I can find a place quite befitting for you. Of course, it will be very painful, and you'll live out your eternity suffering just as I have."

"Helga! What is the meaning of this?" A booming voice yelled.

Godric Gryffindor came striding forward, his whole body now covered in armor, his gleaming sword in his hand.

"You betrayed us!" He shouted to her face, but as he looked upon her, he blushed slightly and looked away. "Have some decency and cover yourself, Helga."

The other founders marched forward from opposite corners of the room. Rowena was graceful and she walked as if she was gliding on air. Salazar looked to be in pain, but he walked with only a slight limp. They both had their wands pointed at Hufflepuff, but like Godric, Salazar looked ashamed to gaze upon her body.

"What's with that look boys? You act like you haven't seen this before!" She said in a taunting manner.

When they both exchanged shocked glances, she smiled broadly.

Helga continued. "I've been in this maze for thousands of years. You were mine for awhile Sal, so were you Ric, and yes, even you Rowena."

It was Rowena's turn to feel embarrassed. She went bright red, and almost dropped her wand.

Godric was the first to go on the offensive. He ran full speed at Helga with his sword ready to chop her down.

She pointed at him and metal materialized in thin air forming into razor sharp daggers. The daggers hurtled at Godric, but a great wooden shield formed in midair, shielding his entire body. The shield and the daggers shapeshifted, transforming into a giant lance. On Godric's command the lance hurtled itself at Helga. The lance was 3 centimeters away from impaling her when she snapped her finger and it dissolved into a puddle of cold liquid metal.

Helga was surprisingly nimble, as she side stepped a bolt of lightning shot at her by Ravenclaw. The lightning barely missed her, singing her exposed left shoulder. Instead of slamming full speed into the wall behind Helga, the lightning made a sharp turn, and hurtled back towards her.

Helga waved her hand and the lighting smashed into a giant shield of mist with a deafening bang.

It was Salazar's turn to mount an attack. He conjured a giant ball of what looked like water and launched it at her, but it too failed to pierce her misty shield, popping upon contact. The liquid sizzled loudly as it dripped down Helga's shield and scorched the ground around her.

Cliona could tell that it was some sort of acid. With that in mind, she decided to distance herself from Helga, who was only a few meters away from her.

For a quick second, Cliona thought she saw a small person out the corner of her eye. She scanned the doorway to the Chamber and a little girl's head popped into view. She moved back out of sight when she realized Cliona had seen her.

"No no no, wait! Lisa, comeback." Cliona whispered.

The girl poked her head out again.

"Lisa, there's a spell keeping me in here. I don't think Hufflepuff wants us escaping with the gem." Cliona started to explain.

Lisa's eyes went wide in excitement. "You have it?"

Cliona continued. "Yes, but that does neither of us any good if I can't get out of here before Hufflepuff takes it from me."

"She can't have it! That gem is mine!" Her eyes went wide again, but this time it was reactionary.

Cliona turned just in time to avoid a large shard of metal. It barely missed her head.

Helga screamed in rage.

Godric had gotten close enough to use his sword, and with one swipe it cut through her mist shield like a knife through butter.

Helga pointed to the puddle of liquid metal and a hand emerged from it, then another hand, then an arm, a torso, and then the liquid metal formed into a large iron statue standing between Helga and Godric. The statue wielded an axe and a giant mace. Godric stumbled backwards as the spike ball slammed down onto the ground in front of him.

Cliona turned back to Lisa. "If you can find a way to get this shield down, I will give you the gem."

Lisa nodded and Cliona ran as a bolt of lightning whizzed by her face. She almost tripped over her own bow that she had thrown down earlier. She looked across the room and saw a handful of her arrows lying on the floor. She raced over to retrieve them, as a dozen silver serpents sped past her.

She collected her arrows, not missing a step as she hurried over to where the dead basilisk lay with its mouth open. She plunged her knife into its gums, cutting open its venom duct further. She bathed the knife and her remaining arrows in basilisk's venom. Just as she finished, the great snake began to stir.

"No way!" She shouted almost frozen to the spot in fear.

The snake lifted its head and then it's body. However, something in the way it moved told Cliona that the snake was not alive at all. It moved as if its muscles were locking and unlocking. Nevertheless, its movements were still quick as it zoomed across the room, fangs bared.

It almost bit down on Helga, save for the iron warrior that stepped in front of her to shield her. It plunged its sword through the roof of the snake's mouth.

Nothing happened. The snake raised its head again and swallowed the iron soldier.

Helga whispered a spell and a giant sword emerged from the basilisk's side. The sword wound itself around, cutting the basilisk in half.

The basilisk continued to slither towards Helga unphased by its own mutilation. The sword once again formed into an iron warrior, and it began to hack at the snake with its axe.

Helga's back was to Cliona and her eyes were set on the other founders. Cliona fitted an arrow on her bow and took aim at Helga's right hip. She released the bowstring, holding her breath as the arrow sailed through the Chamber. Helga didn't even see the poison arrow coming as it closed in on her.

There was a _SWOOSH_ sound and then the arrow fell to the ground in two pieces. The iron soldier had thrown its axe to deflect Cliona's attack. Helga turned towards Cliona, death in her glance. Magic emitted from her so powerful that it shook the room, nearly knocking Rowena, Godric, and Salazar off their feet. Large slabs of stone began to fall from the ceiling.

Cliona was trying to watch the ceiling, Helga Hufflepuff, and the entrance to the Chamber all at the same time. She quickly realized that this would be too much and decided to make a run for the exit, hoping that Lisa had fixed the problem. The ground began to vibrate as if there was an earthquake. Cliona turned to see Helga beckoning the large statue of Slytherin to come to life. The 40 foot statue began to pick up the stone slabs and hurl them at the other founders.

Lisa waved her hand through the doorway, and Cliona picked up her pace even more. She had just made it through the doorway, when a large boulder smashed into it behind her, trapping the founders inside.

"That was a close one." Lisa said matter-of-factly. "Where were Hufflepuff's clothes?" She asked Cliona innocently.

"I'll tell you when you're older." Cliona shot back. "Let's go."

Cliona grabbed Lisa and practically dragged her through the castle behind her. Now it was Lisa who was greatly struggling to keep up with Cliona's pace, and eventually she dropped to her knees exhausted.

"I-" She took a heavy gulp of air. "Just… need to take a break for a second."

"There's no time! If we don't get out of here before the loop resets than Helga will heal and kill us all before we even wake up in the morning!" Cliona explained impatiently.

"Then what are we doing here? Why don't we make for the Tree?" Lisa asked.

"Because I have to get, Tristan. You know what, you've only ever cared about yourself. Here." Cliona pulled out the gem and handed it to Lisa. "Take it and head home."

Without a second look at her, Cliona sprinted the rest of the way to the Ravenclaw common room, which like the Slytherin common room, was not locked. She snuck her way into Tristan's room, tiptoeing quietly to his bed and shaking him gently to wake him up. He began to stir, and gradually he opened his eyes. He took one look at Cliona covered in blood and would have screamed but Cliona quickly covered his mouth.

"Tristan, you have to come with me. The castle is under attack and I've been instructed to take you somewhere safe." Cliona explained.

She was far stronger than Tristan now, and she lifted him out of the bed and shoved his clothes in his hands.

He struggled to put on his cloak and shoes before Cliona was dragging him out of the Ravenclaw dorm. All of a sudden there was a large BOOM that shook the castle.

"Come on, Tristan. We don't have much time."

She dragged him by his wrist and led him out of the castle. Unlike Lisa, Tristan was able to keep pace without tiring. When they reached the safety of the woods, Cliona let go of his wrist. She pulled the bow off her back and fitted an arrow.

"What's that for?" Tristan asked nervously.

"Just in case we're attacked." She answered firmly. "Follow me closely."

The continued to run through the woods until finally, Cliona could see the large old tree that they were looking for. There was no sign of Lisa. Cliona was relieved that she had gone back to their world, and that there was now no way Helga could get the gem.

"Alright Tristan, I need you to go through the whole in that tree." She told him.

He looked at her hesitantly. "But why?" he asked.

"In there you will be protected from all attacks. You will be safe." She answered attempting to sound motherly.

"But there's something I'm missing… Someone." He was frowning hard trying to think. "I think her name was Cliona."

Cliona was shocked to hear her name out of his mouth, for the first time in 7 years. She fought back tears. "I'm sorry Tristan. But that girl you knew is dead."

"Cliona… dead?" Tears began to poor from Tristan's eyes. "Why am I so sad? I feel like I cared a great deal for her."

She was touched that Tristan cared so much, but at that moment she realized that she could not go home, for this was her true home. She shouldered her bow and reached at her belt pulling out her wand.

"I believe this belongs to you." She said smiling at Tristan. Tears were now pouring from her eyes as well. "Thank you for everything, Q. I never would have made it without you."

Q stood face to face with her. "Thank you for not discarding me, even though you didn't need me. Thank you for being my friend when I needed one." He bowed low.

Cliona wiped her eyes and handed the wand to Tristan.

A blinding red light shot through the night. Cliona had no time to react, so she jumped in front of Tristan and tried to brace herself for the pain.

A wall of fire solidified before her, negating the red beam.

Cliona turned to thank Tristan, but instead a tall man stood there smiling at her.

"It looked like you needed some help." Martin said with a smile.

Helga Hufflepuff stood there facing them, her body covered in wounds. She tried to drown Martin's flames in water, but the fire turned blue and the water quickly evaporated, steam filling the forest. She summoned a whip and with one swipe, wrapped it around one of Martin's legs and threw him. She scoffed, but as she took a step closer to Cliona, an explosion shot her backwards.

Out of nowhere, there was hysterical laughter.

"Lisa Turpin's special boobytrap works every time!" She came out from behind a tree and was jumping up and down.

"Come on, Tristan. Let's go!" She told him excitedly.

Tristan wasn't listening. He was crying uncontrollably. His eyes had turned black and orange flames were sprouting out all over his body. The heat causing everyone to step away except for Martin, who was eyeing the boy curiously.

"She's… dead." Tristan said blankly. "SHE'S DEAD!"

The flames turned from red, to blue, to black, and Tristan launched himself at Helga, who had climbed back to her feet. She tried to whip him, but the whip melted. She summoned chains to wrap him up, but the chains melted.

Helga threw spell after spell at him, but nothing managed to even pierce the black flame. She was now scared and began to back away from him.

"How is this possible? He was never supposed to be this powerful?" Helga shouted.

"It's simple." Lisa replied. "The reason he was unable to break the spell like I was, was because his body was preoccupied with consuming the magic. He's absorbed seven years worth of magic. That's a frightening amount of power!"

"Impossible, how could I not see any of this coming. My cup is the all-seeing eye of fate! This-" Her words were cut short as she suddenly jerked violently. She faltered and then fell face first into the dirt an arrow sticking out of her back.

Tristan bellowed loudly. He was still enraged and began punching at the earth, leaving massive holes in the ground. He turned to Cliona. "WHERE IS CLIONA?"

"Tristan Bellwether!" Lisa shouted. "You stop this right now! We have to go!"

Hands of black flame reached out and grabbed Tristan. The flames lifted him off his feet and gently shoved him through the hole in the tree. When the flames subsided, Martin stood there dumbfounded.

"Did you say Tristan Bellwether?"

"Yeah, he's your son." Cliona replied. She followed Lisa to the opening of the tree and watched as she stepped inside. She waved goodbye as Lisa disappeared.

"It sounds like he loves you." Martin said brazenly. "And any son of mine, deserves love."

"I'm not going back. I belong here." She replied determined.

"No, you belong with your friends. Take it from me, you don't want to leave the ones you love." He flicked his wand and a strong gust of wind knocked Cliona through the hole.

She tumbled on top of a pile of her friends.

"Ow! Watch it!" Tristan shouted. "Cliona, is that you?"

"Yes its-" she stopped in surprise for her voice didn't sound like her own. As she climbed to her feet, she realized that her clothes no longer fit.

Lisa jumped up and gave her a giant hug. "I thought you were dead! Good job on not dying!"

Tristan rushed in and piled on with another hug. Cliona could feel teardrops on her cheek.

Cliona followed Tristan and Lisa out of the dark tunnel and when they arrived back in the Forbidden Forest, she was happy to see that they were all whole, without a scratch on them. Likewise, she was surprised to see that she was once again a twelve-year-old girl.

The centaurs were dumbfounded when the children emerged from the tree. They were so impressed, that they even guided the children back through the forest to Hogwarts.

On the way back, Lisa explained that, she had always kind of remembered who she was while they were in the loop but often forgot. She decided to make a memory charm. However, every time she tried; she would be interrupted by Slytherin for skipping her lessons. One day, Cliona had been caught by Slytherin, which allowed Lisa enough time to finish her potion.

"And the rest is history!" Lisa shouted happily as they emerged from the Forbidden Forest.

 **Chapter 17: The Inquiry**

The three adventurers sat side by side in front of Dumbledore's desk. Next to him stood the Minister of Magic, Professor Snape, and Professor Flitwick (the head of Ravenclaw House). These figures of authority had been questioning them for over an hour but remained unsatisfied with the answers they were receiving.

"When you returned to this school, you were wearing robes that were over 1000 years old. Not one of you showed signs of cuts, bruises, or any other sign of altercation, save for Cliona's torn, blood stained robes. What's more, you reek of powerful magic, magic far beyond the abilities of first-year students at Hogwarts." Dumbledore reasoned aloud. "Thus, I am forced to conclude that you came in contact with some powerful magic and witnessed something so far beyond the norms of even the wizarding community. Yes, and my last conclusion would be that you found what you were looking for deep within that forest."

Lisa almost cracked a smile, but quickly fixed her face back to being stoic.

Dumbledore locked eyes with Cliona for a long time. Ultimately, she began to laugh out loud.

"Is that occlumency? I'm afraid I've seen my fair share of that." Cliona said playfully.

Tristan kicked her foot.

Cliona cleared her throat. "Sorry, Mr. Dumbledore, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes drifted down to the pendant that Cliona still wore around her neck; Hufflepuff's pendant.

Cliona looked away and tucked the citrine stone out of view.

"Pardon me, Headmaster. Are we being expelled?" Lisa asked apathetically.

"No, no. That would not only be a detriment to you; it would be a detriment to the magic community as a whole. With proper hard work and studying, you could become the brightest witch of this age." Dumbledore replied.

"Proper studying? I've read every book in this school!" Lisa started but Tristan stomped on her foot. She grimaced in pain. "S-sorry, Headmaster."

Tristan spoke up, looking at the Minister of Magic. "We're prepared to accept any punishment you deem fit."

The Minister's face went red, but Snape spoke first.

"Headmaster, seeing as no one was hurt, no property was damaged, and classes were already out of session;I'm not sure there is anything we can do to punish these three children when there only crime is going missing. Perhaps we could discipline them for the worry they caused their parents and the staff here but being gone only seven days is hardly anything noteworthy. Besides, if Potter can break every school rule and still win Gryffindor the House Cup, surely Mr. Bellwether and Ms. Turpin can be allowed leniency from punishment when they have broken no rules."

"I agree." Said Professor Flitwick. "All we can do is caution them of the dangers of their actions and impress upon them the importance of never going off by themselves again."

"So it must be." Replied Dumbledore. He seemed dissatisfied with this resolution though.

Cornelius Fudge seemed even more dissatisfied with the lack of punishment. He was baring his teeth and visibly seething with anger. "I'm telling you Dumbledore; he is just like his father! You mark my words, that boy is a danger to all of us!" He stormed out of Dumbledore's office and the trio sighed in unison.

Lisa spoke up once more. "Oh, and by the way Professor, Tristan was attacked that day after lessons. He didn't mean to hurt those Ravenclaw boys. It was self-defense. He was just defending himself. I saw the whole things, and I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier." Lisa turned and smiled at Tristan sheepishly.

Later that day, Tristan went to pack up his things. His start at Hogwarts was a rough one, but he had begun to feel at home here. Maybe it was because he had technically been at Hogwarts for over seven years, though his memory of that time was still shaky. Unlike Cliona and Lisa, Tristan was affected the most by that alternate reality. Perhaps it was because he wished it were so. A reality where he was a normal student like everyone else. Or perhaps it was as Lisa had explained. The energy that resided inside of him was not his own and it fed off magic above anything else, which is why it blocked Tristan from regaining his memory so it could continue to feed. This explanation worried him deeply.

When they were all packed up, Tristan, Cliona, and Lisa went to board the Hogwarts express.

Cliona's parents were practically in hysterics when they arrived at Platform 9 ¾. Tristan was happy to see that her father had been freed from Azkaban. Still, Tristan couldn't bear to look over at them. He felt ashamed of himself for letting Cliona come along, but truthfully, he and Lisa may have never returned had it not been for Cliona's heroics.

He walked off preparing to find a place where he could be alone and apparate back to Bellwether Manor. A hand gently tugged on his sleeve. He looked up into the face of Mrs. Malfoy who was nearly in tears. She hugged him. Draco stood there next to his father looking bored. Lucius waved them onward, and the four of them left the station together.

 **Epilogue**

He sat there silently in the window staring down at the boy who was peacefully sleeping. He felt overwhelming love for the boy and could not wait for the day where he would get to meet him. He knew that he could stay there all night watching him, but all would be for naught if he did not find his cure. He wiped a tear from his eyes and stood up to crawl back out the window.

The door to the boy's room creaked open. The man turned in surprise to see a woman with long white hair. Her eyes were wide in shock. She couldn't speak.

He looked down at the boy and then up at her.

She nodded.

He smiled and then climbed through the window. Long dark wings sprouted from his leather cloak and he took off flying into the night.

The woman raced to the window, calling out to him in tears. "Wait, Martin! Don't leave me again!"

Her voice was lost in the howl of the midnight wind.

 **END OF PART 1**


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